"
"Well, aren't we?" demanded Jack, stoutly.
"Surely," assented Hal, meekly.
"Say," demanded Eph, taking out notebook and pencil, "what is an ensign's
pay, anyway?"
"Seventeen hundred dollars a year," replied Benson.
"I don't suppose the Navy Department will try to spring less than a
day's pay on us," hinted Eph. "If that's right, then the government
now owes me three hundred and sixty-five into seventeen hundred. Let
me see--"
"Oh, cut it!" laughed Hal.
"What? My pay?" demanded Eph, "Not much, sir! I want the only money I
ever really earned."
"One of us ought to drop Mr. Farnum a line," hinted Jack, presently.
"Oh, well, let Hal do it," offered Eph. "He carries the only fountain
pen in the crowd."
Without a word Hastings crossed to a table on which were envelopes and
paper, and began to write. Perhaps he welcomed something to occupy his
mind; for, truth to tell, each of these submarine boys had a woefully
"blue" feeling. Though all were naval officers, still, at this moment,
all realized that they would cease to be such as soon as they had
received the thanks of the Secretary of the Navy.
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