"Sentry, keep your eyes on this stranger," ordered the corporal of the marine guard, as he received the paper.
A moment or two later, the commanding officer of the "Massapequa" was reading this brief but astounding communication:
Commanding Officer, U.S.S. "Massapequa": You are towing the submarine torpedo boat "Pollard" astern. Technically and theoretically, haven't you lost your ship? (signed) Ennerling, Commander, U.S.N.
With an explosive remark the gunboat's commander snatched up his cap, darting aft. The corporal, whose curiosity was aroused, judged that he was expected to follow, and did so.
"What's this nonsense about towing a submarine torpedo boat?" demanded the gunboat's commander, reaching deck aft.
"Wh-what, sir!" stammered the marine sentry, presenting arms.
"Where did this boy come from?" demanded the Naval officer.
"I—I don't—" began the sentry, but his superior, leaving him, rushed to the flagstaff.
"Sentry, what were you doing? What was everyone else doing?" cried the gunboat's commander. "Did you think it a part of our cruise to serve as mooring for stray torpedo boats? You—come here, you blockhead!"
The corporal got there ahead of the private, looking down in utter bewilderment at the sight of the "Pollard" riding the waves so saucily just astern of the gunboat's hull.