Part 23 (1/2)

”That goes for both of you,” said the staff officer smilingly.

”I wish I had a line on the new duty, though,” said Dalzell, as he turned away.

”So do I,” half-sighed Dave. ”But wis.h.i.+ng doesn't do much for a chap in the Service.”

Turning, they walked briskly toward the naval club frequented by British and American naval officers. There, by good luck, they found Curtin, who had just come ash.o.r.e.

”There are orders for you at the admiral's office,” Dave reported. ”I may as well tell you, Curtin, that Dalzell and I are detached for other duties; that you have gotten your step to a lieutenant-commanders.h.i.+p and that you are to swing the 'Logan' from now on. Congratulations, old man!

And I know you'll make a record at your new post, just as you have made in your lower grades.”

”And remember, my boy,” grinned Dan, ”we won't be a bit jealous, no matter if you succeed in sinking the Kaiser's entire submarine fleet!”

Curtin's face showed his joy. He immediately wrote and submitted to the censor a cablegram informing his wife that he had been promoted and given a command. Further information he could not send.

”What are we going to do this evening, Danny-boy?” Dave inquired.

”I don't know, but I expect my activities will be confined to guessing what my new line of service is to be.”

”If Curtin has attained to independent command, there's a big chance that you will also,” Dave observed.

”That would separate us,” muttered Dan, looking almost alarmed. ”David, little giant, I don't believe I'll be able to serve as well if I'm not on the same craft with you.”

”Nonsense!” laughed Darrin.

”Fact!” Dan insisted.

”Then what are you going to do when you become an admiral?”

”I'll have lots of time to think that over,” retorted Dalzell.

Three days later the von Bechtold trial came off before a court-martial of British naval officers. The German commander was found guilty of having landed in Ireland as a spy, and was condemned to be shot, a sentence soon afterward carried out. He would give no information about the civilian found dead on the submarine, but the stranger was believed to have been a civilian government official from Berlin.

Right after that Hartmann, alias Jordan, was placed on trial before an American court-martial on a charge of treason. His trial was short because the prisoner broke down and confessed his ident.i.ty as a German spy. He implicated two German spies then in Ireland, both of whom had been masquerading as Swedish s.h.i.+p-brokers. These two latter were captured, tried by the British naval authorities, and sentenced to death. Jordan was ordered shot, and soon afterward paid the penalty of his crime before a firing squad.

Runkle, who had been a witness against Hartmann, alias Jordan, was now detached from the s.h.i.+p on which he had been serving, and was placed on waiting orders.

And then, one morning, Dan broke in on Darrin at the naval club, his eyes gleaming.

”I've got my command and my sailing orders!” he shouted, gleefully.

”What s.h.i.+p?” Dave asked, springing up.

”The 'Prince'!” Dalzell exclaimed, jubilantly.

”Never heard of that craft,” Darrin returned, his eyes opening wide.

”She doesn't sail from this port, does she?”