Part 29 (2/2)

”Good business!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Stirling fervently.

”And,” continued Sefton, ”I'm in the know. Our owner's due for promotion. He'll be given a light cruiser; and unless I'm very much mistaken we'll have Crosthwaite as our skipper before long.”

”Quartermaster!” said Sefton, as he turned to descend the companion-ladder.

”Sir,” replied that worthy, already known to our readers as Thomas Brown, A.B., but now a promising petty officer.

”See that I am turned out at 5.45.”

”Aye, aye, sir.”

The three officers disappeared below. The quartermaster smiled grimly as the faint words of the chorus of ”They don't run corridor cars on our branch line” caught his ear, followed by an emphatic ”Chuck it, old bird.”

”Proper jonnick they are, every mother's son of 'em,” muttered P.O.

Brown, as he walked for'ard. ”Chaps as us fellows would go through 'ell with, if we ain't done so already,” his thought reverting to that memorable action in the North Sea when the Huns fled before Jellicoe's armed might.

And thus we say ”Adieu,” or perhaps ”Au revoir,” to three gallant gentlemen who had so worthily played their parts in upholding the honour of the White Ensign with Beatty off Jutland.

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