Jack and Hal sprang below, to scan their respective departments. Five
minutes later Grant Andrews hailed from the “Pollard,” and Eph rowed over
in the shore boat to ferry over the machinists.

Half an hour later Andrews and his men had put in the few needed touches
aboard the newer submarine boat. The sun, meanwhile, had gone down,
showing the hull of a naval vessel some four miles off the harbor.

Darkness came on quickly, with a clouded sky. As young Benson stepped on
deck Grant Andrews followed him.

“All finished here, Grant?” queried the yard’s owner.

“Yes, sir. There’s mighty little chance to do anything where Hal Hastings
has charge of the machinery.”

“That’s our gunboat out there, I think,” went on Mr. Farnum, pointing to
where a white masthead light and a red port light were visible, about a
mile away.

“Dunhaven must be on the map, all right, if a strange navigating officer
knows how to come so straight to the place,” laughed Jack Benson.

“Oh, you trust a United States naval officer to find any place he has
sailing orders for,” returned Jacob Farnum. “I wonder if he’ll attempt to
come into this harbor?”

“There’s safe anchorage, if he wants to do so,” replied Captain Jack.