you are writing?"

The woman looked up, her face composed, her eyes dancing with mirth.

"Why, surely, Mr. Kimball," she replied, laughing. "And very silly stuff
you'll find it, too. I have been jotting down my impressions upon
finding myself riding under the surface of the sea. I do not handle
your English language very well, as you will see."

Mr. Kimball glanced hastily through the three or four pages of rather
closely written note paper. It was, as the young woman had stated,
a very amateurish composition, in very stilted English.

The naval officer felt a sense of mortification and his face reddened
slightly. He had been led to expect that he would find something crime
on these sheets of paper. Instead, he scanned a stupid piece of
composition.

"I would die of humiliation, to have that read before all these people,"
murmured the young woman.

Lieutenant Commander Kimball gave Jack Benson a covert elbow-dig in the
ribs, a move said, as plainly as words:

"The joke is on you."

Jack, however, through half open eyes, had been watching on his own
account. Suddenly he made a dive forward, shooting his hands down close
to Miss Peddensen's well-booted feet.