"Take my arm, then, if you will," requested M. Lemaire. "We will stroll about, and we shall see if your eyes are keen enough to discover your young submarine captain."

The young woman defiantly accepted the challenge. By the time that they had strolled around the ballroom scarlet spots glowed in her cheeks.

In either eye a tear of anger glistened behind the lash.

"Are you satisfied?" murmured M. Lemaire, in a low voice.

"I fear that I shall have to teach the young cub a lesson or two in the art of showing devotion to a woman's wishes," Mlle. Nadiboff answered, tremulously.

"Shall we walk in the grounds?"

"I beg you to take me out into the air," replied the young woman.

"Yes, it will be better," whispered her companion, cruelly. "Your face is aflame. You will attract too much attention here, and too much curiosity. The American naval officers have sharp eyes--sometimes!"

Procuring his companion's wrap at the coatroom, and throwing a light topcoat about himself, M. Lemaire led the way to a distant settee from which they could look out over the star lit waters beyond the beach.

The man had an especial reason for choosing this seat. From that place they could quickly catch sight of anyone who came near enough to overhear.

"Sara," began M. Lemaire, less brutally than his companion had expected him to speak, "for once I fear that you are going to fail utterly."

"Then you do, not know me," she replied, with spirit. "I shall win!

I shall have Captain Jack Benson carrying my fan and craving my smile.

And that shall be quickly, too!"

"If you do not succeed, Sara," retorted the man, "then sterner measures will have to be tried. This youthful Benson may even have to lose his life in the attempt that must be made, at all hazards, to wrest from him a set of drawings of the boat he commands, and a description of all her working parts, and all the secrets of managing the boat!"

"If he could hear you, he would be charmed with the outlook," muttered the young woman, shrugging her shoulders.

"Sara, do you comprehend the situation altogether? The Pollard type of submarine boat is now the most formidable and dangerous in the world--and only the United States Government can buy boats from the makers! Any country in the world that goes to war with the United States must be beaten unless that country knows how to provide itself with submarine boats equal to those of the Pollard make. You may be sure that, at this moment, Spruce Beach is overrun with spies representing every great government in the world. The first country to buy, steal, coax or drag out the Pollard secrets wins! You know the master we serve, Sara, among the governments. We must be the spies who win--even though all the Pollard crew have to be destroyed!"

CHAPTER IV

KAMANAKO APPEARS ON THE SCENE

Had Jack Benson or Hal Hastings heard that strange talk, perhaps neither of them would have slept as soundly that night.

As it was, both submarine boys slept more soundly and sweetly than any other human being in that great hotel, unless, possibly, it were Jacob Farnum.

At daylight all three were astir.

Wrapped in bathrobes that concealed their bathing suits the three made their way down to the beach. There, for ten minutes, they enjoyed themselves in the surf.

"Seems mighty queer to be bathing in salt water in December, doesn't it?" demanded Hal, gleefully, as, with both hands, he launched a column of salt water that caught Jack neatly in the face.

"Anyway, I believe it's just what the family medical man ordered,"

chuckled Mr. Farnum, as he stepped sh.o.r.eward, then ran briskly up and down the beach before he went in again for a final plunge.

Over to the bath house, where an attendant had carried their clothing, the three now hastened. After a brisk rub-down and dressing, these three from the "Benson" presented themselves in the hotel dining room, where, at this very early hour, they were privileged to breakfast all by themselves.

"The way my appet.i.te feels," laughed Jack, enjoyably, "I pity the guests who have to follow us at table."

"There won't be any breakfast left. They can have lunch," declared Hal Hastings, gravely.

Hardly had the food been placed before them when Mr. Farnum glanced up, to find at his elbow a bowing, smiling little j.a.panese.

"Honorable sir, may I address you while you eat?" inquired the little brown man.

"Why not?" asked Farnum, good-humoredly. "Take a chair, won't you, Mr.--"

"Kamanako is my name, honorable sir," replied the j.a.panese, with three more bows.

"Take a seat, won't you, Mr. Kamanako?" Mr. Farnum invited him again.

"It is much better, honorable sir, that I stand."

"Why?"

"Because I am servant."

"Not here, surely," replied the shipbuilder. "All the waiters here are negroes."

"Not all in kitchen, honorable sir," responded the j.a.panese, with an air of great deference. "Some in kitchen are j.a.panese."

"Are you employed in the kitchen, Mr. Kamanako?" asked the shipbuilder.

"Until to-day, honorable sir."

"Meaning you have left the employ of the hotel?"

"Yes, honorable sir."

"Then you're going away from here?"

"I hope to follow the sea, honorable sir. I am a sailor. All my ancestors before me were sailors. We love the salt water."

"There is something, then, that I can do for you, isn't there?" guessed the shipbuilder.

"If you will be so good, honorable sir. I seek to become steward aboard your boat."

"Oh," replied M. Farnum, understanding, at last. "You will have to speak to Captain Benson about that."

He indicated Jack by a nod, so the little j.a.panese turned to Benson with another bow.

Now, as it happened, a steward was just what Captain Benson wanted.

Such duties, formerly, had fallen upon Eph Somers. But now cooking and serving meals did not exactly jibe with Eph's present position aboard the "Benson" Eph was really first officer or mate.