"Then who are you?"

"Who? Me?" demanded Eph, innocently. "Oh, I'm only the Secretary
of the Navy."

"All right, Mr. Secretary," laughed the same young man. "We are coming
aboard."

"Aboard of what?" inquired Eph.

"Why, you're submarine boat, of course," came the answer.

"Guess not!" responded Eph, briskly.

"Why, yes; we're newspaper men, and it's business, not fun with us."

The boat containing the speaker lay lightly alongside at this moment.
In another moment the young man in the bow would have clambered up
on deck, but Eph called down to him:

"Hold on! Stay where you are. My orders are to hit any fellow with a
boathook who tries to come up here in the captain's absence."

"But we've got to have a look at your boat, don't you see?" insisted
the newspaper man, though, as Eph carelessly picked up a boathook, the
would-be caller waited prudently in the bow of his boat.

Young Somers was surely in a state of uncertainty. He had strict orders
to allow no one aboard unless he knew them to be United States naval
officers. On the other hand, the auburn-haired boy knew how necessary