sustained very little damage. Then, having made their report and been complimented on their work, Webb and Haynes went below to change their soaked uniforms. The Portchester Castle, this part of her mission successfully accomplished, put about and retraced her course to Gibraltar.

Here the prisoners were to be sent ashore until an opportunity occurred to put them on board a vessel bound for England, there to swell the total of ever-increasing numbers of Hun pirates living in a state of comparative ease in a hostile country, while thousands of Britons, who had fought cleanly for King and Country, were languishing, half-starved and in rags, in the hideous prison-camps of Germany.

"Hallo, there's a fellow who evidently wants to pow-wow with you, Tom," said Osborne, as the two officers stood at the head of the gangway, watching the U-boat's survivors being marched ashore.

The German whom Osborne had indicated had stepped forward and was signing vigorously to Webb. Then, to the Sub's surprise, the man produced a small packet and held it out.

"Tanks!" he exclaimed. "For you—many tanks."

Then it was that Webb recognized the man whose life he had been instrumental in saving. The Hun had some sense of gratitude after all, he reflected, as he took the proffered packet.

But before Webb could examine its contents a loud yell distracted his attention from the Hun's gift. The last of the prisoners to leave the ship was the fellow who had attempted to knife one of the whaler's crew. With a show of bravado and out of sheer cruelty, he had deliberately kicked Laddie in the ribs as he passed towards the gangway.

The Hun had one of the shocks of his life. He had underestimated the spirit of an Old English sheep-dog.

Although the kick was a heavy one, Laddie never uttered a sound. Like an arrow from a bow the dog flew straight at the leg that was wearing the offending boot.

Laddie bit hard—so hard that Osborne afterwards declared that he could hear the dog's teeth grinding upon the aggressor's shin-bone. Yelling frantically with pain and terror the German strove to shake off the animal, but, retaining a vice-like hold, Laddie hung on, and finally threw the fellow on deck. As for his comrades, they ran panic-stricken down the brow and across the Mole in spite of the efforts of the guards to keep them under control. Nor did the British bluejackets attempt to 

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