but he neither said nor did anything. He was a Navy officer, trained
not to display emotion.

"Good!" came from Captain Jack's lips. Yet, in the intensity of his
strain it was a groan, rather than a note of exultation. "We're cutting
into the 'Thor's' water."

A few moments more, and Benson found his craft slantingly across the
Rhinds boat's course, well ahead.

"Now, we'll show you!" quavered Jack Benson, as he briefly shook his fist
back at the wicked rivals.

"If we don't blow the lid off this sea-turtle!" muttered young Somers,
to himself.

At the youthful captain's sharp order Eph swung the course around.

"Now, drive straight toward the derelict, Eph!" breathed the young
commander, his eyes glittering. "I leave the deck in your hands for a
minute. You're broadside on, now. Keep driving, steady, as you are!"

As Farnum saw young Benson dashing his way the shipbuilder understood
and darted down the stairs.

After him plunged Jack Benson. Below, both became cooler, for the task
in hand must not be bungled. On one of the trucks they dragged a torpedo
forward, fitting it in the tube.

As he closed the after port behind the torpedo, Jack bent over to place