“Come up here, Benson,” ordered the lieutenant commander, in a loud voice
intended to drown out the subdued titter of some of the sailors forward.

Jack ascended to the bridge, to find himself facing a six-footer in his
early thirties. There was a younger officer at the far end of the bridge.

“Does Mr. Farnum consider you capable of showing us the way into the
harbor?” demanded the commanding officer of the “Hudson.”

“I think so, sir. He trusts me with his own boats.”

“Then you are—”

“Benson, Mr. Farnum’s captain of the submarine boats.”

Lieutenant Commander Mayhew gazed in astonishment for a moment, then held
out his hand as he introduced himself, remarking:

“I was told that I would find a very young submarine commander here, but—”

“You didn’t expect to find one quite as young,” Jack finished, smiling.

“No; I didn’t. Mr. Trahern, I want you to know Captain Jack Benson, of the
Pollard submarines.”

Ensign Trahern also shook hands with young Benson.

“And now,” went on the commander of the “Hudson,” “I think you may as well
show us the way into the harbor.”