regarding the America for the benefit of Hemisphere readers. The cruiser is, the second officer informs him, of over 7,000 tons displacement. Her battery comprises two six-inch, 40-caliber rapid-fire guns, one on each side, forward of the superstructure; one eight-inch, 40-caliber on the center line, abaft the superstructure; eight four-inch rapid-fire guns in armored sponsons on the gun-*deck, four on each side; six-pounder rapid-fire guns, four-pounders, one-pounders, Gatlings and torpedo tubes galore.
"There are three vertical, triple-expansion engines, each set driving a separate screw. The propellers are of manganese bronze and the"
"Thank you, that is sufficient, I guess," interrupts Jack. "The Hemisphere readers will have a very good idea of the offensive and defensive power of the America now, I am sure."
The cruiser is slowly backing out into the stream. There is a big throng on the pier to watch her departure, and a whole battery of cameras are leveled as she finally swings around.
Now the ship becomes indeed instinct with life and is pointing down the bay with a speed that augurs well for the shattering of records. The whistles of all the craft in sight screech a salute and the America's hoarse whistle bellows responsively. Past the Battery and Governor's Island she speeds and then, fairly by quarantine, the patent log is cast into the foamy wake and Capt. Meade rings "full speed."
The speed trial of the America has actually begun.
Jack is idly watching the rapidly receding island, when he becomes aware by the slight bustle on the quarterdeck that the commander of the America has returned from the bridge.
Capt. Meade, or "Fighting Dave," as he is affectionately designated in naval circles, is a man of about 60 years, but forty-five years of his eventful career have been spent in the navy. He has worked himself up, without political or social influence, from apprentice boy to com-
