to map out harbor defenses in Craven Bay!"

Again Captain Jack glanced backward over his shoulder, but Millard was
no longer in sight.

"He knew me, probably, in a flash," muttered the submarine boy. "I'm
sorry I didn't recognize him sooner."

Having gotten his wind back, Jack broke into a run again. Just because
Millard had dropped out of sight was no reason for taking chances of a
sudden swoop from the stranger.

For some five minutes Jack Benson jogged along. Then he came in sight
of a little semicove. Here lay a small motor launch, whose skipper,
somewhat of the fisherman type, was busily engaged with the engine.

"Say," hailed young Benson, running down to the water's edge, "can you
start your engine at once?"

"I reckon," nodded the fisherman, looking up.

"Run your bow in, so I can get aboard, then," directed Captain Jack,
briskly. "I want to get over to where the Army tug is at work. Do
you know where that is--over to the southeast ward?"

"Yep," nodded the fisherman.

"I'll give you three dollars to take me over there in a hustle," proposed
Jack.