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Updated: May 18, 2025
Lieutenant Commander Mayhew gazed in astonishment for a moment, then held out his hand as he introduced himself, remarking: "I was told that I would find a very young submarine commander here, but " "You didn't expect to find one quite as young," Jack finished, smiling. "No; I didn't. Mr. Trahern, I want you to know Captain Jack Benson, of the Pollard submarines."
“Why, sir, I understood the lad to say what he states that he said.” “You are sure of that, Mr. Trahern?” “Unless my ears tricked me badly,” replied the ensign, “Mr. Benson said just what he now states. I wondered, sir, at your calling for slow speed astern.” Lieutenant Commander Mayhew gazed for some moments fixedly at the face of Ensign Trahern.
The instant he had the power off Captain Jack threw the manhole cover of the tower open. As he bounded out on the platform deck several of the midshipmen followed, with Ensign Trahern and others. No sooner had his feet touched the platform deck than Jack threw down his cap. His blouse followed, almost in the same instant.
"Yes," signaled back the "Farnum's" flags. "Dive at will, but keep to a due east or west course. Be careful to avoid collision with the sister craft," came the next order from the parent boat. "All below!" ordered Benson, crisply. Ensign Trahern waited until the last of the cadets had filed below, then followed them.
From time to time the waves concealed it, but the next instant it rose on their crests, still advancing. "Those crazy fellows actually seem to be trying to meet us," said Trahern. "Those are not men," replied Philip. "If men tried to cut through the waves in that fashion their ship would be battered to pieces."
"What do you see there?" called the captain, noticing the surprise of his men. "The spectre ship, sir," one of them answered at last, trembling. Trahern began to scan the vessel through his spy-glass. "That's no spectre ship," he said after a short pause. "What else could she be, sir? Would any mortal man carry sail in such a tempest? See how fast she approaches us!
Instantly uniform caps littered the platform deck. Uniform blouses followed. A group of white-shirted middies raced for the rail. Splash! splash! splash! The water shot up in tiny columns of spray with so many young midshipmen diving overboard. Even Ensign Trahern was startled by the promptness with which his question had been met. "No more men go overboard!" bellowed Mr. Trahern. Splash! splash!
It was a gross violation of discipline, so to address an officer. But Ensign Trahern merely smiled, for this once, as he replied: "Never mind, Mr. Satterlee. You'll be needed to stand by with me and help some of these venturesome ones aboard again." Jack's start had been a good one, and he was a lusty swimmer. He headed straight for the young woman, whose cries reached him across the water.
Then a gigantic figure stood erect, spite of the terrible tossing of the waves, and, raising a speaking trumpet to his lips, shouted in deep, ringing tones, "Captain Trahern, Robert Barthelemy hereby summons you to surrender at discretion the King Solomon and her crew." The speaker was Skyrme.
I I want to thank him, oh, so heartily, and to apologize." "Here he is," cried Ensign Trahern, shoving Benson forward. "But I'm not a midshipman, nor anything else in the Navy no such luck," laughed Jack. "If you're not in the Navy, you ought to be, you splendid fellow." cried the girl, weakly, holding out her hand in sheer gratitude. "And, oh, I was such a coward, and so unreasoning!"
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