like officers of the service, if they wasn't so young."

"There never was anybody more delighted to you," broke fervently from
Jack Benson's. "You belong to the 'Waverly'?"

"Aye, aye, shipmate."

"Then you know the submarine, of course?"

"Aye, shipmate."

"I am the captain, and my friend the engineer, of that craft."

The big sailor's reply was an explosive yell.

"Don't let that snake-in-the-grass Frenchman get away, mates," begged
Jack, earnestly.

"Jerry, I reckon you can hold the only gang way that opens in on this
place, can't ye?" demanded the big sailor, turning to his sturdy looking
shipmate.

"I reckon, Hickey," said the other.

"This Frenchman is one of a gang of foreign spies, who have taken this
means to force us to furnish plans, drawings and all information about
the Pollard submarine boats," Jack continued. "You see how he has us
ironed down here."

"Got the keys to them irons, Frenchy?" demanded the big sailor, turning