“I’m going up there with you,” Jack volunteered.

“Right-o, if you insist,” clicked Eph Somers, appearing from the engine
room and darting to the young skipper’s side. True, Jack’s head swam a bit
dizzily as he climbed the stairs, but Eph’s strong support made the task
much easier. There was space to spare on the seat beside Hal, and into
this Jack Benson sank.

“Say, you ought to sleep until afternoon,” was Hastings’s next greeting,
but Jack was looking out of the conning tower at the scene around him.

The three craft were leaving the coast directly behind. About three
hundred yards away, abeam, steamed the “Hudson” at a nine-knot gait.

“The ’Pollard’ is on the other side of the gunboat, isn’t she?” asked
Jack.

“Yes,” Hal nodded.

“Naval crew aboard her?”

“Yes; Government has taken full possession of the ’Pollard.’”

“Who’s running this boat? Just you and Eph?”

“No; that new man, Truax, is on board, and at the last moment Mr. Farnum
put Williamson, one of the machinists, aboard, also. You can send
Williamson back from Annapolis whenever you’re through with him.”

“Williamson is all right,” nodded Jack, slowly. “But how about Truax?”