about it at present."

In truth, Jack didn't seem inclined to conversation. He was too sore
and dazed to feel like talking. He couldn't collect his ideas clearly.
The most that he actually knew was that the pain in his head was
tormenting.

"I'll pick him right up in my arms and carry him," proposed Andrews.
"I'll take him to Mr. Farnum's office. Then I'll get a doctor. We
don't want much noise about this, or folks will be telling all sorts
of yarns against Jack Benson and his drinking habits, when the truth is
he's about the finest, steadiest young fellow alive!"

Just as Andrews was about to carry his purpose into action, however, an
automobile turned the nearest corner and came swiftly toward them. In
another instant it stopped alongside. It contained Mr. Farnum and his
chauffeur, besides three naval officers.

"What's wrong, Andrews?" called the yard's owner. "Why, that's Jack
Benson! What has happened to him?"

Hal and Eph stood supporting their comrade, almost holding him, in fact.
Jacob Farnum leaped from his automobile. Lieutenant Commander Mayhew
followed him.

"Liquor, eh?" exclaimed the naval officer, the odor reaching his nostrils.

"No such thing," retorted Farnum, turning upon the officer. "At least,
Jack Benson has been drinking no such stuff."