“You’ll want to go at little more than headway, sir,” Jack replied. “The
harbor is small, though there’s enough deep water for you. In parts there
are some sand ledges that the tide washes up.”

“I can’t allow you to pilot us, exactly, but you’ll indicate the course to
me, won’t you, Mr. Benson?”

The “mister” was noticeable, now. Naval officers are chary of their
bestowal of the title “captain” upon one who does not hold it in the Army
or Navy service.

At Mr. Mayhew’s order the “Hudson” was started slowly forward, the
searchlight playing about the entrance to the harbor.

“For your best anchorage, sir,” declared Captain Jack, after he had
brought the gunboat slowly into the harbor, “you will do well to anchor
with that main arc-light dead ahead, that shed over there on your
starboard beam, and the front end of the submarine shed about four points
off your port bow.”

Mr. Mayhew slowly manœuvred his craft, while men stood on the deck below,
forward, prepared to heave the bow anchors.

“Go four points over to port, Mr. Trahern,” instructed Mr. Mayhew. “Now,
back the engines—steady!”

Jack Benson opened his mouth wide. Then, as he saw the way the “Hudson”
was backing, he suddenly called:

“Slow speed ahead, quick, sir!”