"The gig is waiting to take you to the 'Sudbury' sir."
This information was punctuated by another salute which Jack, as head of
the party of three young officers, again returned.
"Lead the way," directed Jack.
For the third time saluting, the coxswain possessed himself of Jack's
suit case and sword, then crossed the wharf to the landing stairs
down below, the gunboat's cutter waited, a natty little craft, occupied
by a bowman and four oarsmen.
The three young officers seated themselves at the stern of the gig.
"Cast off," directed the coxswain. "Up oars! Let fall! Give way!"
With the long, steady, magnificent sweep of the Navy which the sailors
pulled, the little gig seemed to race through the water.
"Is that the 'Sudbury'?" inquired Jack, nodding toward a trim little
gunboat some two hundred feet long.
"Yes, sir."
All three of the submarine boys gazed at the gunboat with secret
enthusiasm. Had it not been for the guns fore and aft, and at the
rail on either side, the "Sudbury" might have been mistaken for some
multi-millionaire's yacht.
In another moment the gig was making fast at the gangway.
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