I were in your place I'd take advantage of this head start I have given you and get my clothes and sea-bag in some sort of condition. If I remember rightly, you have never been able successfully to achieve this since you've been in the service."

"Thank you, sir," I gasped, and bolted. In my excitement I ran violently into a flock of ensigns stalking across the parade ground.

"I'm going to be shipped," I cried by way of explanation to one of them as he arose wrathfully.

"You're going to be damned," said he, and I was. Too frantic to write more.

Sept. 5th. All preparations have been made. Tim, Tony and the Spider are going too. I have just been listening to the most disturbing conversation. It all arose from our speculating as to our probable destination and the nature of our services. The Master-at-arms, who had been sleeping on the hammock rack as only a Master-at-arms can, permitted himself to remain awake long enough to join in.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised," said he, "if you were shipped to one of these new Submarine Provokers."

"What's that?" I asked uneasily.

"Why, it's a sort of a dee-coy," said he, stretching his huge hulk, "a little, unarmed boat that goes messing around in the ocean until it finds a submarine and then it provokes it."

"How's that?" asked Tim.

"Why, you see," continued the jimmy-legs, "it just sort of steams back and forth in front of the submarine, just steams slowly back and forth in front of the submarine until it provokes it."

"Ah!" said I, taking a deep breath.

"Yes," he continues cheerfully, "and the more you provoked the submarine why the harder it shoots at you, so of course it doesn't notice the real Submarine Sinker coming up behind it. See the tactics."

"Oh," says I, "we just provoke the submarine until it loses its temper and the other boat sinks it."

"That's it," says the jimmy-legs, "you just sort of steam back and forth in front of it slowly."

"How slowly?" asks the Spider.

"Very," replied the jimmy-legs.

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