the opportunity to stretch his cramped knees and shift his uneasy position before they should come back again. He was heartily ashamed of being there, eavesdropping but—well, one does not get into the war game often. When he was passed again, he realized from the voices that the Captain had gone below and that two of the younger officers were talking.
“I wish we could have found some of those submarines,” one was saying, “especially with the manœvres so nearly over. Our orders to end by fetching a compass round the whole fleet make it almost certain that we will be caught ourselves, so it does seem as though we might have got something.”
“Yes,” said the other. “I believe if I could only fire off that torpedo rocket to tell one of those uppety submarine commanders he is sunk, I would be the happiest man in Uncle Sam’s Navy. There’s no hope now of our finding that battleship either.”
The destroyer sped on through the rain and the dark, the two officers stood silently at their posts and Billy curled up closer in his corner, soaked and cramped and aching and happy. He thought a moment of that boy who had
