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Durham, Victor G.

"The Submarine Boys for the Flag Deeding Their Lives to Uncle Sam"

And now, for the
tickets."
These McGrath bought, including parlor car seats. The ensign then saw
them safely to their seats.
"Now, you've got enough to do, reading your new books," laughed the
ensign, "So I'm not going to waste your time by staying here to talk
to you. It's ten minutes, yet, to the time of your departure. Good-bye,
gentlemen--_and good luck!_"
When McGrath had gone Jack leaned across the aisle to whisper:
"Eph, can you get at your sword handily--to draw it, I mean?"
"What's up?" said Eph, suspiciously.
"I want you to stick about a sixteenth of an inch of the point of your
sword into me, so I can judge how long I've been dreaming."
"What's the matter with using your own sword?" demanded Eph, a trifle
gruffly.
"That's just the trouble," smiled Benson, plaintively. "I'm afraid I'll
wake up and find I haven't any."
Hal was leaning back in his parlor car chair, his eyes closed. He was
dreaming delicious daydreams.


CHAPTER XIII
COMMANDER OF A U.S. GUNBOAT!

"Lieutenant Benson, sir?" inquired a coxswain, saluting.
"Yes," replied Jack, returning the salute.


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