It was the next morning. In Captain Dunham's cabin on the Manhattan, Herc had just concluded reciting his story to the commander and to no less a person than the Secretary of the Navy.

It had been a badly embarrassed boy who had at first faced the stern questioning of his commanding officer; but by degrees, as his story went on, Captain Dunham's manner relaxed. His stern air gave place to one of deep interest. And now, at the conclusion of Herc's narrative, he spoke:

"I was at first inclined to very grave suspicions of you, Taylor, but your previous good record and your manner convince me that you are telling the truth, more particularly as the department[Pg 273] has been aware for some time of the existence of a band of spies who had, in some way, secured the co?peration of renegades in our navy. We have been trying through the night to get some word of Strong; but we have failed. I'm afraid, my lad, that you must resign yourself to the inevitable. At any rate, Strong, so far as we know, died in the pursuit of his duty and lived up to the best traditions of the navy."

"Then you believe that he is dead, sir?" Herc blurted out, his freckles showing like scars against his pale cheeks.

"There is no other conclusion to be reached, Taylor. His long absence from duty, and the lack of all word from him, convince me of the worst. Strong is not the sort of lad to remain out of touch, if he were in the land of the living. You may go now, and the Secretary and myself will talk over the details of rounding up this gang of miscreants. If they had anything to do with Strong's death, I will give you the satisfaction[Pg 274] of taking part in the pursuit and apprehension of them."

The Secretary broke in.

"That clew that Taylor has in the shape of that scrap of paper, I regard as valuable, Captain," he said. "I would recommend that inquiries be sent out concerning the yacht Halcyon. It is quite possible that the conspirators may be meaning to make good their escape on her. In that case, if we can trace her, she can be intercepted at sea and the men apprehended."

"I shall see that it is done, Mr. Secretary. Taylor, you may carry on and—— Well, orderly?"

Captain Dunham looked up inquiringly as his orderly entered the cabin in some haste, and, after saluting, stood respectfully at attention. But it was plain from the man's manner that he was laboring under some excitement.

"The officer of the deck reports an airship[Pg 275] coming this way, sir," said the orderly. "He told me to inform you at once, sir."

"An airship!"

"Yes, sir, or else a flying boat. We can't quite make out yet, sir."

"I will come on deck at once. Mr. Secretary, this may prove interesting. Possibly it is one of the Blue scouts; if so, I hope to bring the craft down, 'technically,' of course."

Herc saluted and hastened forward, while the captain and the Secretary of the Navy emerged on the deck. The Red fleet lay off Rock Island. They were awaiting word as to the movements of the "Blues" before steaming down the Sound to the attack.

So far, the wireless had been barren of news, and the movements of the defending squadron were surrounded with considerable mystery. The suspense had been wearing, and so every eye in the squadron, from Dreadnought, battleship, cruiser, destroyer, and torpedo boat, was centered[Pg 276] on the strange aeroplane that was flying toward them.

Opinion was divided as to whether the distant flying machine was an aerial scout, or was a friendly craft bearing despatches from a portion of the squadron which had been sent around on the Atlantic side.

On came the flying craft, and as it neared the grim fleet that lay swinging with smoking funnels at anchor on the blue tide, it was seen to swerve downward like a swooping fish-hawk. For a mile or more it skimmed along the surface of the water and then struck it with a splash.

"A flying boat!" exclaimed Captain Dunham, who had the binoculars on it.

The craft drove straight on over the water at a rapid rate of speed. As it drew closer, Captain Dunham exclaimed i............