By George! That craft looks just like the 'Pluton.'" We, who were watching, saw Potter's face lengthen.

He peered nervously at the rapidly approaching torpedo boat, and then tried to laugh unconcernedly.
"You can't 'string' me," he retorted.

"That's one of your Uncle Samuel's boats all right.

See! they are going to hail us." A bell clanged in the engine room, then the throbbing of the machinery slackened to a slow pulsation.

The rudder chains rattled in their fair-leaders, and presently we were steaming along, with the torpedo craft a score of yards off our midships.
On the forward deck of the latter stood two officers clad in the uniform of the commissioned service.