"Bulkley, do you see some object in the air—off there to the northwest?"
Commander Dunham, of the Dreadnought Manhattan, paused in his steady pacing of the after deck, and turned to Ensign Bulkley, the officer of the deck.
Ensign Bulkley brought into play the insignia of his diurnal office, a powerful telescope, done in brown leather, with polished, black metal trimmings. With it, he swept the sky in the direction indicated by his superior, for some minutes.
"I do see something, sir," he said presently, "a black object, like a large bird. But it's bigger than any bird I ever saw. By Jove, sir, it's—it's an aeroplane!"
"An aeroplane! Impossible. How could one find its way to Blackhaven Bay? And what could be its errand here?"
"I've no idea, sir. But I'll wager my commission that it is one. Suppose you look yourself, sir?"
The officer of the deck handed his telescope to his commanding officer. Commander Dunham gazed intently through it for a few moments. Then he turned to Bulkley.
"By all that's wonderful, you're right, Mr. Bulkley. It seems to be coming this way, too."
"Not a doubt of it, sir. But at the rate it is advancing it should not be long before we are aware of its errand."
"At all events, it will relieve the monotony, Bulkley. Anchored here since yesterday and no orders yet. However, I suppose mine practice and general gunnery will be the program."