“Aye, aye, sir!”

Eph Somers’s right hand caught at the speed signals beside the wheel. He
called for all speed, the bell jangling merrily in the engine room.

A little cheer of excitement went up from the cadets aboard the “Farnum”
as that craft shot ahead over the waters. The cadets were catching the
thrill of what was virtually a race. At the same time, though, these
midshipmen could not help feeling a good deal of interest in the success
of the “Pollard,” which was manned wholly by representatives of the Navy.

In the first three minutes the “Farnum” stole gradually, though slowly,
ahead of the “Pollard.” Then, to the disgust of all three of the submarine
boys, the other craft was seen to be gaining. Before long the “Pollard”
had the lead, and looked likely to increase it. Already gleeful cheers
were rising from the all-Navy crowd on the deck of the other submarine.

Behind the racers sped the “Hudson,” keeping just far enough behind to be
able to observe everything without interfering with either torpedo craft.

From looking at the “Pollard” Captain Jack glanced down at the water. His
own boat’s bows seemed to be cutting the water at a fast gait. The young
skipper, knowing what he knew about both boats, could not understand this
losing to the other craft.

“The Navy men must know a few tricks with engines that we haven’t
guessed,” he observed, anxiously, to young Hastings.

“I don’t know what it can be, then,” murmured Hal, uneasily. “There aren’t
so confusingly many parts to a six-cylinder gasoline motor. They aren’t