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Submarine Boys for the Flag

<h2 id="id01418" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XVIII</h2> <h5 id="id01419">EPH BETS AN ANCHOR AGAINST A FISH-HOOK</h5> "The government possesses the fellow's charts and notes, anyway," observed Jack Benson, rather proudly. "Yes, thanks to you, gentlemen," nodded the commandant. "Still, I fancy the authorities, will be fearfully annoyed over this escape." "There are no particulars, sir, you say?" queried Jack. "No; the mere announcement of the fellow's escape, and a request to military and naval authorities to be on the lookout for the fugitive The despatch also states that description will follow by wire." "We can give you a pretty fair word-portrait of Millard right now, sir," offered Lieutenant Benson. "And I wish you would." Jack proceeded to do so. He had about finished, when the carriage stopped punctually before the door of the officers' club. The commandant took cordial leave of his young guests, after which they were driven to the railway station. Just a little later they found themselves leaning back in parlor car seats, bound for Washington. Most of the way back the youngsters dozed in their chairs. Now, that the excitement was over, all felt need of rest. Not even at the railway station in Washington could they escape the watchfulness of the Navy Department. The same messenger who, the day before, had handed them their copies of the Regulations, now met Benson with a note. "The Secretary will not be at his office until one o'clock this afternoon," announced Lieutenant Jack, looking up from the order. "We are directed to report at that hour." "What shall we do until then?" demanded Eph, blankly, when the messenger had departed. "Why, since we're still in the service," laughed Jack, "and as I've heard that the Arlington is much patronized by Navy officers, suppose we treat ourselves to a carriage, go to the Arlington and register. That will be the last grand feeling we'll get out of this." His comrades rather merrily agreed. So, a few minutes later, the trio marched through the lobby of the Arlington to the desk. Jack picked up a pen, and registered: "John Benson, U.S.N." Hal and Eph followed suit. Then they were led to their connecting rooms. "We'll have luncheon at half-past eleven," smiled Lieutenant Jack, as he dropped into an easy chair. "In the service one never knows when his next meal is coming." "Good!" chuckled Hal, though there was a sad ring to his tone. "Keep up as long as you can, old fellow, the fiction that we're still in the naval service." "Well, aren't we?" demanded Jack, stoutly. "Surely," assented Hal, meekly. "Say," demanded Eph, taking out notebook and pencil, "what is an ensign's pay, anyway?" "Seventeen hundred dollars a year," replied Benson. "I don't suppose the Navy Department will try to spring less than a day's pay on us," hinted Eph. "If that's right, then the government now owes me three hundred and sixty-five into seventeen hundred. Let me see—" "Oh, cut it!" laughed Hal. "What? My pay?" demanded Eph, "Not much, sir! I want the only money I ever really earned." "One of us ought to drop Mr. Farnum a line," hinted Jack, presently. "Oh, well, let Hal do it," offered Eph. "He carries the only fountain pen in the crowd." Without a word Hastings crossed to a table on which were envelopes and paper, and began to write. Perhaps he welcomed something to occupy his mind; for, truth to tell, each of these submarine boys had a woefully "blue" feeling. Though all were naval officers, still, at this moment, all realized that they would cease to be such as soon as they had received the thanks of the Secretary of the Navy. However, "blue" as all three felt, none of them hung back when half-past eleven arrived. They descended to the dining room, where they refreshed themselves heartily. The meal over, there was just about enough time left for them to walk comfortably to the Navy Department. They had walked a couple of blocks of the way when Hal suddenly felt the stamped letter in his pocket. He drew it out, and glanced hurriedly down the avenue. "I don't see a letter-box ahead, fellows, but I saw one, half-way down the block, at the last corner we passed. You two keep right on. I'll join you." Presently Jack and Eph halted in their walk to look back. "Where is Hal?" demanded Somers. "He can't have lost us," muttered Jack. "Oh, I guess he has simply taken a short cut to meet us ahead on the way." Yet, though they continued to look for their comrade until they had neared the State, War and Navy Building, Hal Hastings had not again appeared in sight. "Say, but this is fearfully careless of good old Hal," muttered Jack Benson, uneasily, as he glanced at his watch. "We've no time to go back to look for him, either, for we've barely time to reach the Secretary's office." "We'll have to go in without Hal, then," grumbled Eph. "It makes me feel like a fool, too!" Had the two lads but known it, there was still plenty of time. For the Secretary of the Navy may make an appointment with an understrapper, and then find that he must first see some more important personage. There were "big" callers ahead of the boys that day, so that it was nearly two o'clock when Lieutenant Jack and Ensign Eph were admitted to the presence that they were to leave shorn of their brief rank and command. "Good afternoon, Lieutenant Benson. Good afternoon, Mr. Somers," was Secretary Sanders's swift greeting. "You were most successful, and I must congratulate you heartily. But—where is Mr. Hastings?" "We don't know, Mr. Secretary," Jack admitted. "He left us for a short time, as we thought, and, since then—" Mr. Sanders wheeled sharply as the door opened and a clerk came in. "Pardon me, sir," apologized the clerk. "But a note has just come for Lieutenant Benson, sir, and the messenger was insistent that it was a most important matter—" "You may take your note and read it, Lieutenant," suggested the Secretary of the Navy. Young Benson gave a start when he recognized, in the address, the handwriting of Hal Hastings. In another instant Jack gave a much more violent start. For these were the words that met his astounded gaze. "Dear Jack: I am in a Washington police station, feeling like a number-one idiot. Soon after leaving you I ran into Millard, face to face, There was a policeman within two hundred feet at the moment. I let out a full siren yell and dashed at Millard. He held on to me until the policeman reached the spot. I let him hold me, thinking that the easiest way. But Millard produced a paper—a request from the military authorities at Fort. Craven, to arrest and hold anyone pointed out by the bearer. I talked—some—to that policeman, but it did no good. He took me to the station house, and here I am! Millard vanished, after saying that he'd wire the news of my arrest to Fort Craven. You'll have to explain me out of this. Yours disgustedly, Hal." "May I read this to you, Mr. Secretary?" begged Jack Benson. "Do so, Lieutenant." "I will be back in a moment," muttered the Secretary of the Navy, rising, and hastily quitting the room. The instant that high official was gone Eph caught at his sides with his hands. "Oh, wow! Woof! Umpah!" chuckled young Somers, his face distorted with glee. "Some one catch me! I'm choking! Great Scott, what wouldn't I have given to see that? Hal, the quiet, the dignified? Oh, dear! Oh, dear. Hal pounces on the fellow, to arrest him, and Hal is the one who gets pinched Woo-oo! I can see Hal's face right now I'll wager an anchor to a fish-hook that the astonished look is stamped on Hal's face so hard that it won't come off for a week. Oh—woof!" Eph was laughing so hard that the tears streamed down his face. "Quit that!" commanded Jack, stepping over to his comrade, his own face stern. "It's no laughing matter." "Why, they won't hang Hal!" sputtered Eph, as soon as he could talk. "Hal will be at liberty almost at once. But fancy the shock! Imagine the dear old fellow's astonishment, and the jolt to his feelings." Again Eph Somers went off into a paroxysm of laughter. It seemed uncontrollable, for Eph had a strong sense of the ludicrous, and Hal's face, as Somers pictured it, must have been a tremendously funny sight at the instant when Millard so neatly turned the tables. "Come, quit your nonsense!" grumbled Jack, disgustedly. "I can't," roared Eph, going off into still another burst of laughter. Just at that instant Somers gave himself the lie. The door opened, admitting the Secretary of the Navy. In a fraction of a second Ensign Eph had straightened up, while his face was solemn enough for an Indian chief's countenance. "I have just been straightening out that little matter," explained Mr. Sanders. "I have talked with the police, and have described Hastings. The police are in deep chagrin over their blunder. Mr. Hastings is now at liberty and on his way here." At a motion from Mr. Sanders the two young officers seated themselves. The Secretary turned to his desk to sign some papers. From Eph, suddenly, came a suppressed, explosive sound. Jack seated beside him on a sofa gave Somers an indignant elbow jab. The Secretary glanced up, then resumed his writing. A minute later there came from Eph the sound of another smothered explosion. The picture of Hal Hastings's indignant astonishment had once more been conjured up before young Somers's face. Poor Eph was red in the face with all the effort of keeping back his laughter. "I fear you must have caught some cold, standing watch on the gunboat's bridge," said the Secretary, sympathetically. That sobered Somers in an instant. The notion that he—he a sea-dog accustomed to stand watch in all weathers, could catch cold through exposure of the kind just mentioned made Eph feel a sense of ghastly humiliation. Five minutes later Ensign Hal Hastings was shown into the office. The Secretary of the Navy greeted him kindly, though with a twinkle in his eyes. "The paper that caused my trouble was one that was taken from Mr. Benson when he couldn't help himself," Hal explained. "For some reason, the military authorities never discovered that Millard had that paper about him. It was enough to save him from arrest an hour ago." "And Millard is still at large," nodded Mr. Sanders. "It's a matter for the military authorities and the Secret Service, I imagine. I don't see how the Navy can be drawn into it. However, I am going to ask you young gentlemen to retain your special appointments a little longer. I may yet have considerable need of you in this affair. You are stopping at the Arlington? Perhaps, for this afternoon, you would enjoy going over to the United Service Club, where you are likely to meet a good many Army and Navy officers. I will send some one along with you who will see to it that you have ten-day cards at the club." At any other time this all would have meant to Jack Benson that he was still an officer in the Navy. Just now, however, it meant that Millard was at large, and Benson had a strong notion that it would yet fall to the lot of the submarine boys to put that wretch where he belonged. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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