Procuring his companion's wrap at the coatroom, and throwing a light
topcoat about himself, M. Lemaire led the way to a distant settee from
which they could look out over the star lit waters beyond the beach.
The man had an especial reason for choosing this seat. From that place
they could quickly catch sight of anyone who came near enough to
overhear.

"Sara," began M. Lemaire, less brutally than his companion had expected
him to speak, "for once I fear that you are going to fail utterly."

"Then you do, not know me," she replied, with spirit. "I shall win!
I shall have Captain Jack Benson carrying my fan and craving my smile.
And that shall be quickly, too!"

"If you do not succeed, Sara," retorted the man, "then sterner measures
will have to be tried. This youthful Benson may even have to lose his
life in the attempt that must be made, at all hazards, to wrest from him
a set of drawings of the boat he commands, and a description of all her
working parts, and all the secrets of managing the boat!"

"If he could hear you, he would be charmed with the outlook," muttered
the young woman, shrugging her shoulders.

"Sara, do you comprehend the situation altogether? The Pollard type of
submarine boat is now the most formidable and dangerous in the
world--and only the United States Government can buy boats from the
makers! Any country in the world that goes to war with the United
States must be beaten unless that country knows how to provide itself
with submarine boats equal to those of the Pollard make. You may be