"Eph," he cried, wheeling upon his friend the moment Doctor McCrea was gone, "there's something you haven't told us."
"Such as—what?" asked Somers, doing his best to look mighty innocent.
"Doctor McCrea as good as admitted that we—won't have anything to do to-day. What's wrong?" Then, after a brief pause: "Good heavens, does Mr. Mayhew believe we've been acting disgracefully? Are we barred out of the instruction work?"
Hal had been raising a glass of cold water to his lips. The glass fell, with a crash. He wheeled about, then clutched at the edge of the cabin table, most unsteadily.
"We-e-ll," admitted Somers, reluctantly, "Mr. Mayhew said he would want to question you some, perhaps, this morning."
"What did he say? Out with it all, Eph!"
A moment before Jack Benson had been pallid enough. Now, two bright, furious spots burned in either cheek.
The red-haired boy, however, was spared the pain of going any further, for, at that moment, a heavy tread was heard on the spiral staircase. Then Lieutenant Commander Mayhew, holding himself very erect, one hand resting against the scabbard of the sword that he wore at his side, came into view below.
Many were the questions that the naval officer put to the two victims of the last night's mishap. All the time his eyes studied their faces keenly. Apparently, it needed a lot of assurance to half convince Mr. Mayhew that the two submarine boys were telling him the truth.
"Well, gentlemen," he said, at last, rising and speaking with great deliberation, "I believe you to be gentlemen, which means that you are young men of honor, if it means anything at all. Your story is so strange that—pardon me—it is difficult to credit. Yet I have no evidence that it is not true. I am sorry we have not in custody the two men who sailed that sloop last night—"