CONTENTS.

CHAPTER
I. [Foul Play in the Engine-room]
II. [On the Scent]
III. [The Declaration of War]
IV. [A Double Arrest]
V. [Boarded]
VI. [An Ocean Duel]
VII. [Von Eckenhardt Scores]
VIII. [The Dutch Trawler]
IX. [The Secret Wireless]
X. [H.M.S. "Strongbow" Sails]
XI. [All in a Day's Work]
XII. [Mined]
XIII. [The Raid on Scarborough]
XIV. [The End of the "Terrier"]
XV. [Vice Versâ]
XVI. [The Flooring of Mr. McNab]
XVII. [The End of the "Bluecher"]
XVIII. [Derelicts]
XIX. [The Submarine Scores]
XX. [A Duel with a Zeppelin]
XXI. [The Last of the "Syntax"]
XXII. [The Tables Turned]
XXIII. [The Struggle in the Cutting]
XXIV. [The "Strongbow's" Prize]
XXV. [The Wreck]
XXVI. ["The Price of Admiralty"]
XXVII. ["Mephisto" and the Submarine]
XXVIII. [The Foiled Air Raid]
XXIX. ["Lieutenant Aubyn, R.N., D.S.O."]
ILLUSTRATIONS

["Crash! went the anti-aircraft gun, and the projectile, bursting almost in front of the bows, gave her a mortal blow."]

["Both men dropped over the edge immediately above the ponderous machinery."]

["Taking a quick yet steady aim, the Sub. pressed the trigger."]

["'Don't move just yet,' said the Sub. 'I'll help you both very soon.'"]

["'She's one of ours!' exclaimed Stairs. 'Hurrah! we're saved.'"]

["The strain on the hemp aided his efforts."]

A SUB. OF THE R.N.R.

CHAPTER I

FOUL PLAY IN THE ENGINE-ROOM.

"Well, Mr. McBride?"

"It's verra far from weel, sir," replied Jock McBride, chief engineer of the SS. "Saraband." Captain Ramshaw folded his arms and waited. He knew that it was practically a matter of impossibility to urge the rugged Scottish engineer beyond his usual gait. McBride could and did work at high pressure, but when it came to making a report he was as slow and stolid as the proverbial obstinate mule.

The SS. "Saraband," 5260 tons, intermediate boat of the Red Band Line, had developed engine troubles shortly after leaving Cape Town. In spite of the assiduous care and attention of the staff the fault developed. Two hundred miles from Las Palmas the breakdown reached a climax. Wallowing like a porpoise the steamer lay helpless in the trough of the Atlantic rollers.