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“There has been some queer work here,” muttered Hal in Eph’s ear. “Don’t torment him with questions. Just help me to get him down to the yard.” While the two submarine boys were guiding their weak, dizzy comrade out to the sidewalk a man came by with a swinging stride. Then he stopped short, staring in amazement. “Hullo, boys! What on earth has happened?”
The very genuine note of concern in Eph’s voice caused Jack and Hal to open their own eyes instantly. Nor could any of the three repress a quick start. From all quarters naval cadets were advancing stealthily upon them. Something in the very attitude and poise of the young men told the submarine boys that these naval cadets were out for mischief.
“If a boat named the ’Hastings’ were sold to some foreign government,” laughed Jack Benson, “Hal, here, wouldn’t say much about it. But call a boat named the ’Somers,’ after Eph, and then sell it, say, to the Germans or the Japanese, and all of Eph’s American gorge would come to the surface.
“You’re the rawest recruits, the worst landlubbers I’ve ever seen,” declared Cadet Midshipman Merriam, with severe dignity. “Rest, before you try it any further.” The smile had all but left Jack Benson’s lips, though he tried to keep it there. Hal Hastings made the most successful attempt at looking wholly unconcerned. Eph’s face was growing redder every minute.
The course being narrow, the sloop was obliged to sail rather close to the fleet. “That’s no fisherman!” muttered Somers, watching, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. Presently the sloop’s hull was lost to Eph’s sight beyond the gunboat. Then the boy heard a voice from the “Hudson’s” deck roar out: “Look alive, you lubber! Do you want to foul our anchor chain?”
No sooner had the moorings been cast loose from than Eph sounded the slow speed ahead bell. Within sixty seconds the propellers of the “Farnum” were doing a ten-knot stunt, which was soon increased to fourteen. One of the seamen now stood by to swing the searchlight under Eph’s orders.
“You know, Hal, old fellow, I’ve got to look out for the feeding of a lot of boarders to-day,” complained Eph, whimsically. This task of Eph’s took time, though it was not a hard one. The food for the cadets had been sent aboard. Eph had to make coffee and heat soup. For the rest, cold food had to do. The young men, on this trip, were required to wait on themselves.
“How should I know?” demanded Eph, solemnly. “You see your friends, and you see their condition.” “Smell their breaths, sir. There isn’t a trace of the odor of liquor.” The surgeon did so, confirming Eph’s claim. “But I remember that Mr. Benson came aboard, at Dunhaven, with a very strong odor of liquor,” continued the lieutenant commander.
Then Hastings pressed a button connecting with a bell in the engine room. “I’m going up there with you,” Jack volunteered. “Right-o, if you insist,” clicked Eph Somers, appearing from the engine room and darting to the young skipper’s side. True, Jack’s head swam a bit dizzily as he climbed the stairs, but Eph’s strong support made the task much easier.
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