"You're about right," agreed Morpeth. "Handling a crew of Dagoes and such-like takes a bit of doing. My present job is an easy one in comparison."
"What made you go in for the Submarine Service?" asked Meredith.
The bull-necked R.N.R. officer leant back in his chair and laughed uproariously.
"Got you cold, by Jove!" he ejaculated. "Submarine Service—a precious lot I know about it, 'cept that I know a U-boat when I spot her. Leastways, I thought I did until I mistook your hooker for Fritz: but you fired on me first, my man. Ha! ha! ha! Submarine indeed!"
"Well, isn't this one?" inquired Wakefield.
"She won't submerge unless a Hun tinfish gets her," replied Morpeth oracularly. "And that ain't likely, since Fritz can't distinguish between a real U-boat and this old hooker. We're just a decoy."
"Sort of Q-boat?" asked Meredith.
"You've about hit it, old thing," replied the R.N.R. man. "We're just off to the Heligoland Bight to see if that fish will bite. Excuse my joke. Hope you're not in a hurry, 'cause you'll have to be shipmates along with us for the next fortnight."
"Any old job'll suit me," said Wakefield. "The only thing that troubles me is how we are to get in touch with the S.N.O., Auldhaig. We'll be posted as missing and all that sort of thing."
"Can't help you there," declared Morpeth. "We don't get in touch with patrolling craft during this stunt for a very good reason. They'd fire on us at sight long before we could establish our identity."