"What's your business? Do you follow the sea?"

"Say, you haven't caught me leading it anywhere, have you?" inquired Eph, wonderingly.

"If we throw you a rope, will you try to catch it?"

"Yep, or a beefsteak, either," Somers declared, promptly.

"Send the boy a rope," directed the officer on the bridge. "Be careful not to sweep him off the float. The lad doesn't seem over-bright."

Though this remark was not intended for his ears, Eph caught it nevertheless.

"Not bright, am I?" muttered Eph, to himself. "Gracious, what a lot of company I have in the world, then!"

Through the air the rope, deftly thrown, came swirling. Eph caught his end of the line in a manner to make the officer say to himself:

"That boy has followed the sea. He knows as much about life on salt water as I do."

Very deliberately Eph bent over, fastening his end of the line around the k.n.o.b on the stateroom door.

"Haul in, my hearties," he hailed.

Eph stood up, balancing himself nicely while the sailors hauled the slack until the door lay b.u.mping against the side hull of the gunboat.

"Look out," sang out Eph. "Little Willie, the Boy Dewey, is coming on board."

With that he began to climb the rope, hand over hand, until he reached the rail and clambered over, standing dripping on the deck.

"Say," remarked a petty officer, "you left the line fast to that raft."

"Certainly," nodded Eph, with cool a.s.surance. "That's so you can haul the door on board, too. Mother'd make a fuss if I got home without the door to her ice chest."

"Shall we haul the door aboard, sir?" called the petty officer to the bridge.

"Yes," nodded the young officer up there.

So that came aboard, too, almost in a jiffy.

Eph, with a very wide grin on his face, stood regarding the sailors who had curiously gathered around him.

"Where are you from?" asked one of the seamen.

"Just in from the salt water," Eph a.s.sured him.

"Let the boy alone, men," warned the officer on the bridge. "I'll have the guard take care of him for the night. In the morning I'll report the case to the captain. But bring the boy up here for a moment."

Two sailors thereupon escorted Eph to the bridge. The officer in charge looked him over curiously.

"Now, young man," began the young officer, "have you anything to tell me about yourself!"

"Yes," volunteered Eph.

"Go ahead."

"I'm wet."

"Boy, you're in the wrong place to try to get funny," came the stern rebuke. "I guess I know what you need."

Just at that instant the sounds of a decided though indistinct commotion came from aft.

"Then shake," begged Eph, offering his hand. "I know, too, what you need."

"What is it that you think I need?" demanded the officer, suspiciously, eyeing the boy closely.

"You need to get wise," declared Somers, promptly. Then, noting that the sounds from aft had caught the officer's quick ear, the submarine boy added, with another grin:

"By the time you've found out the meaning of the rumpus aft you'll know a lot more."

Over in one corner of the bridge a cadet midshipman had stood silent during this talk. Turning to him, the watch officer said hurriedly:

"I leave you in charge here. Look after this boy."

Then the watch officer ran quickly down from the bridge, making his way aft.

No wonder there was excitement on the after part of the gunboat.

Captain Jack Benson, after heading the "Pollard" about, had run as close as he, or rather, Hal, dared. Hastings was at the wheel, much of the upper hull of the boat being now out of water. Jack was forward, on the upper hull, with a line, one end of which was made fast to the platform deck. At the other end of the line was an iron bolt for weight.

Close in under the stern of the gunboat, slightly to starboard, stole the "Pollard." Jack, balancing himself, made a cast of the line. The iron bolt shot up, past the stern flagstaff, then down into the water astern again.

With the gunboat lying to, the submarine could move only with the barest headway. The instant he saw that the line had pa.s.sed around the base of the flagstaff, watchful Hal Hastings set the reverse deck control in order to keep from b.u.mping the "_Ma.s.sapequa_." Next, the submarine stole quietly over towards port, Jack, with a boathook, gathering in the line that he had thrown around the flagstaff. This end he made fast in a trice.

"The marine guard, if there is one, didn't see the line flying,"

whispered Jack, gliding back over the "Pollard's" hull to the platform deck. "I don't think I'll be caught now until I'm on that other boat's deck."

"Good work! Fine!" whispered Commander Ennerling, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Here's the note."

Captain Jack slipped the folded paper in his pocket, then hastened back to the line. Hal ran the submarine far enough back to leave the double line all but taut. Seizing the rope with both hands, Jack made his way swiftly up to the gunboat's stern rail.

In another twinkling he was over. It was not until his feet touched the deck that the slight noise caught the marine sentry's ear, causing him to wheel about.

"Halt!" hailed the marine, throwing his gun to port. "What are you doing there?"

"I've a message for your commanding officer," Jack answered, halting with a click of his heels as he brought them together.

"Where did you come from?" demanded the marine, wonderingly.

"Are you the commanding officer?" questioned Jack. "If not, take me to him."

"Corporal of the guard!" bawled the marine.