The Boy Allies with the Victorious Fleets | Page 3

almost, in the semi-darkness.
The senior naval officer aboard the Plymouth hoisted signal flags.
"Bon Voyage," they read.
Through a glass Jack read the reply.
"Thank you for your good work. Best of luck."
From the S.N.O. (senior naval officer) came another message. Frank
picked it up.
"Set course 188 degrees. Keep lookout for inbound transports to be
convoyed. Ten ships."
Again the destroyer swung into line. It was almost seven o'clock--after
dark--when the lookout aboard the Plymouth reported:
"Smoke ahead!"
Instantly all was activity aboard the destroyers. Directly, through his
glass, Jack sighted nine rusty, English tramp steamers, of perhaps eight
thousand tons, and a big liner auxiliary flying the Royal Navy ensign.
Under the protection of the destroyers, the ships made for an English
port. The night passed quietly. With the coming of morning, the flotilla
was divided. The Plymouth stood by to protect the big liner, while the
other three destroyers and the tramp steamers moved away toward the
east.
"This destroyer game is no better than driving a taxi," Frank protested
to Jack on the bridge that afternoon. You never see anything. I'd like to
get ashore for a change. I've steamed sixty thousand miles since last
May and what have I seen? Three ports, besides six days' leave in
London."
"You had plenty of time ashore before that," replied Jack.

"Maybe I did. But I'd like to have some more. Besides, this isn't very
exciting business."
Night fell again, and still nothing had happened to break the quiet
monotony of the trip. Lights of trawlers flashed up ahead. Interest on
the bridge picked up.
"Object off the port bow," called the lookout.
"Looks like a periscope," reported the quartermaster.
Frank snapped his binoculars on a bobbing black spar.
"Buoy and fishnet," he decided after a quick scrutiny.
Frank kept the late watch that night. At 4 a.m. he turned in. At five he
climbed hastily from his bunk at the jingle of general alarm, and
reached the bridge on the run in time to see the exchange of recognition
signals with a British man-o'-war, which vessel had run into a
submarine while the latter was on the surface in a fog. The warship had
just rammed the U-boat.
"Can we help you?" Frank called across the water.
"Thanks. Drop a few depth charges," was the reply.
This was done, but nothing came of it Frank returned to his bunk.
"Pretty slow life, this, if you ask me," he told himself.
He went back to sleep.
CHAPTER II
THE BOY CAPTAIN AND HIS LIEUTENANT
The U.S.S. Plymouth was Jack Templeton's first command. He had
been elevated to the rank of captain only a few weeks before. Naturally
he was not a little proud of his vessel. When Jack was given his ship, it

was only natural, too, that Frank Chadwick, who had been his associate
and chum through all the days of the great war, should become Jack's
first officer.
In spite of the fact that Jack's rating as captain was in the British navy,
he was at this moment in command of an American vessel. This came
about through a queer combination of circumstances.
The American commander of the Plymouth had been taken suddenly ill.
At almost the same time the Plymouth had been ordered to proceed
from Dover to Liverpool to join other American vessels. Almost on the
eve of departure, the first officer also was taken ill. It was to him the
command naturally would have fallen in the captain's absence. The
second officer was on leave of absence. Thus, without a skipper, the
Plymouth could not have sailed.
Jack and Frank had recently returned with a British convoy from
America. They were in Dover at the time. From his sick bed in a
hospital, the captain of the Plymouth had appealed to the British naval
authorities. In spite of the fact that he was in no condition to leave
when he received his orders, he did not wish to deny his crew the
privilege of seeing active service, which the call to Liverpool, he knew,
meant.
The captain's appeal had been turned over to Lord Hastings, now
connected prominently with the British admiralty. Lord Hastings, in the
early days of the war, had been the commander under whom Jack and
Frank had served. In fact, the lads were visiting the temporary quarters
of Lord Hastings in Dover when the appeal was received from the
commander of the Plymouth.
"How would you like to tackle this job, Jack?" Lord Hastings asked.
"I'd like it," the lad replied, "if you think I can do it, sir."
"Of course you can do it," was Lord Hastings' prompt reply. "I haven't
sailed with you almost four years for nothing."

"You mean, sir," replied Jack with a smile, "that I