lapsible. It held nothing except the oars. There wasn't an indication that it had ever been used to carry supplies. The commander turned to the line of prisoners. He noticed that his own men glanced at them with curiosity. He went closer, questioning. He was met by that absurd laugh. The song recommenced.
"What is this?” he asked.
His second in command strolled up to him.
"Most of these men, sir, are drunk. Ah, there goes that light again."
The commander turned sharply. The light didn't flash from the headland. It was far down the beach. It went out. Its purpose was clear. It had warned away a submarine to which these men belonged, to which they had started to row in their boat.
The commander lighted a cigar, relieved to be able to smoke again. He knew, because of the shifting of the light, it might be impossible to implicate the unkempt man on the headland who by this time must have destroyed every evidence. On the other hand the intelligence department would be grateful to the commander for he could say definitely now that there was no submarine base in this secluded cove, that it had never sheltered any serious plot. The amazing truth cried itself from the grinning faces of the line
