"Mr. Hastings didn't get a chance to show what was in him," suggested another of Uncle Sam's old salts.
"Oh, you leave Mr. Hastings alone for fighting, if he saw any need to," retorted the sailor who had been the first to speak. "He's one of your very quiet chaps. Your quiet ones always sail into a fight while a brawler is getting his mouth wound up to do some talking."
"Hanged, if I don't wish them lads could remain on board!" muttered another old salt.
"With the young lieutenant to command the ship?" asked another.
"Him as well as anyone. He knows what he's doing, for which reason I don't care for the number of the year he was born in. Why, mates, the lieutenant is the head of them submarine boys we've read so much about in the newspapers when layin' in port. And the other two are his messmates. Now, I'll stand for it that the submarine boys are good for any kind of a job on salt water. I'd foller their lead on a battleship!"
It would have been fine for the three submarine boys had they been able to know what great opinions the crew held of them.
But Hal was again on the bridge in the last watch, and Eph had gone below for an hour's sleep ere he, like Jack Benson, was to be called.
Then, at last, two sleepy-eyed boys came from their cabins, going up to the bridge for what they felt was their last hour of real sea-glory.
Ensign Fullerton appeared half an hour before anchorage was made.
"You have the satisfaction, sir, of knowing that your task was put through in record time," said Fullerton, by way of congratulation.