the harbor.

"We're off, boy!" exclaimed Jack to his chum. They were, indeed. The boys were standing in front of the conning tower and, because it was their first submarine voyage and they had yet to acquire their sea legs, they kept firm hold on the wire railing that ran the length of the deck on either side of the vessel. Commander McClure and Executive Officer Binns were up on the deck steering station behind a sheath of white canvas directing the movement of the ship.

"This is what I call great!" laughed Ted as the Dewey began to gather speed and moved out into the bay.

Looking seaward the boys beheld the prow of the submarine splitting the water clean as a knife, the spray dashing in great white sheets over the anchor chains. From aft came the steady chug-chug of the engines' exhaust, to be drowned out at intervals as the swell of water surged over the port-holes. They seemed to be afloat on a narrow raft propelled swiftly through the water by some strong and unseen power.

"I say, old boy, this beats drilling out on the campus at Brighton with the school battalion, eh? what?" exclaimed Jack.

Ted was doing a clog dance on the deck. "I'm just as happy as I can be," was his gleeful comment.

Very shortly the lighthouse that stood on the cape's end marking the harbor entrance had been passed and the Dewey was out on the open sea. Before the boys stretched water—-endless water as far as the eye carried—-to the far thin line where sky and water met. They were lost in contemplation of the wonderful view. But their reveries were suddenly disturbed by a sharp command from Executive Officer Binns:

"All hands below—-we are going to submerge!"

The Dewey was going to dive!

CHAPTER III

SEALED ORDERS

Ted and Jack hastened to follow their comrades down the hatchway. A sea-gull flapping by squawked shrilly at them as the boys waited their turn at the ladder. Instinctively they took another look around them before dipping into the hold of the Dewey. They realized that here, indeed, was the real thrill of submarining. The cap was lowered at last and secured, and the crew hastened to their posts amid the artificial light and busy hum of the ship's interior.

Now the Brighton boys were to learn how the Dewey was to be submerged! For one thing they noted that the oil engines used for surface cruising were shut off and the locomotion of the vessel switched over to the electric drive of the storage batteries. But their attention was directed chiefly to Navigating Officer Binns, who had taken up his position before a row of levers and water gauges amidships.

"Pump three hundred pounds into No. 1," was the command given by Binns. One of the levers was thrown over, and immediately could be heard the swirling of water. The boys were unable to grasp the full meaning of what was going on until Bill Witt shuffled up and said: "I'll put you fellows wise to what's going on, if you want me to."

Ted and Jack were glad to know what it was all about and listened attentively to the commands of the navigating officer and the interpretations given by their new-found friend. Bill explained that the process of diving was called "trimming" in submarine cruising, and that the pumping of the water being directed by Binns was done to fill the ballast tanks, thus increasing the displacement of the Dewey and causing it to settle in the water. First one tank was filled, and then another, until the vessel was submerged on an even keel. This was a revelation to the boys, for they had supposed it was only necessary to tilt the ship and dive just like a porpoise.

To their great delight the recruits found that the Dewey, like other submarines built since the beginning of the great world war, was equipped with twin periscopes, and that, furthermore, they would be allowed to watch the submersion of the Dewey through the reserve periscope if they so desired. Would they care to? Well, rather! For the next few minutes they took turn about peering into the mirrors that reflected the whole panorama before their eyes.

Gradually, they could see, the Dewey was settling into the embrace of the sea. Now she was down until the waves rolled completely over the deck and splashed against the conning tower. Down, down they dropped till only the periscope projected above the waves. Before them stretched the wide sweep of water, the ocean rising slowly but surely to overwhelm them. One after another the waves surged by. Now the eye of the periscope was so close to the crest of the water that it was only a matter of another moment until they would be under. Up, up, up came the water to meet them. Ted's heart was in his mouth while he viewed this awesome spectacle. Then he gave way for Jack to take a squint through the tube that carried with it a last look at the world of sunlight they were leaving. And now the eye of the periscope was so near submersion that the swell of the waves swept over it and momentarily blotted out the light. Then the spray dashed madly at the "eye" of the tube—-and they were under!

Down in the depths of the ocean! It was a moment to stir the pulses of the two Brighton recruits. Wide-eyed in wonder, tense with the strain of the experience, they stepped back from the periscope. Through Ted's mind flitted memories of Jules Verne's "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea," and he was suddenly inspired to find out whether it was possible to glimpse any of the wonders depicted by the writer. A peep into the tube showed only a greenish haze as the rays of the sun seemed trying to follow the Dewey into the depths. Against the eye of the periscope streamed a faint flicker of greenish particles in the water that reminded the boy of myriad shooting stars. And then—-nothing but a blur of black!

"What do you know about that?" gasped Ted, turning to his old school pal. The boys were keyed to a high pitch by this time as a result of their first experience in a deep-sea dive. So tense were they with excitement that they marveled at the care-free attitude of the crew. Some of them were humming nonchalantly; others chatting and laughing as though on an excursion on a river steamboat.

"What do you feel like, chum?" began Ted, as the two settled into a conversation over their wonderful exploit.

"Well, I've been up in the tower of the Woolworth Building and down in a coal mine and up in a Ferris wheel and once I had a ride with Uncle Jim in the cab of a locomotive—-but this beats anything I ever had anything to do with!" exclaimed Jack, all in one breath.

Ted was gulping a bit. "I feel as though I had left my heart and stomach up there on top of the ocean," he stammered.

Bill Witt grinned from ear to ear; the remark was reminiscent of other "rookies" and their first experiences at sea.

"You'll probably think you've completely lost some parts of your department of internal affairs before you get rightly acquainted with your new friend Mr. Neptune," offered Bill by way of a gentle reminder.

So far the new members of the Dewey's crew had been unaffected by the terrors of seasickness. Bill's remark drove the import of it home pretty hard. "I hope, if we are going to get it," interjected Ted philosophically, "we get it soon and get over with it."

They had little time to ponder over the possibilities of gastronomic disturbances, for there was much going on that occupied their attention. The Dewey was now running entirely submerged, testing out her electric batteries.

"How do they steer the