"What are your plans, old man?" asked Billy, addressing the A.P.
"My plans? I haven't any," replied Kirkwood, who, having lost his parents early in life, had no home but that represented by His Majesty's ships. "I could go to my uncle's place, but I'm not very keen, and I fancy the sentiment is reciprocated by him, although I am his heir. He's a lawyer, you know, and about as musty as parchment."
"Then run up with me to Tarleigh," said Billy cordially.
The A. P, was not one of those fellows who affect a ridiculous hesitation when given an invitation.
"Thanks, awfully, old man," he replied. "I'm on absolutely. Is there time to look in at the Naval Club? I expect letters awaiting me."
"Right-o!" assented Billy. "By the powers, 'tis good to find oneself in England after our little jaunt. Makes a fellow completely bucked, especially after a jolly good bath, fresh clothes and all that. Ugh! Those togs we took from that barge!"
"Coming in?" inquired Kirkwood, as the pair arrived at the entrance of the Naval Club.
"No, not now," replied the flight-sub. "I'll go to the post office and send a wire to let my people know we are on the way. I'll pick you up at the station."
Barcroft had sent a telegram to his parents from the Hook of Holland announcing his safety. He had also gone to the post office immediately upon his arrival in England, but the place did not open till nine. It was now nearly noon.
He had not gone more than a hundred yards when Kirkwood overtook him, flushed with excitement.