Something stirred in the back of my mind. I sensed dimly that here lay the explanation of the disappearance of the _New York_, the very mystery that I had come to solve. Almost I had it; then it slipped away. * * * * * "Here's the doctor!" someone said. There was a little stir of activity about me. I allowed my eyes to close, as if in utter weariness. "What's all this? What have you got here?" A gruff voice, intolerant. "One of our sub-sea scouts, sir. Just come back, after some delay. Her eye was smashed, and there are grapple marks on her. Must have been caught, and then slipped away. She was leaking badly. We got her through the lock just in time." Jim had evidently added a few touches of his own. "Comrade Pauloff seems to have been seriously injured. He's got a bad cut on his scalp, and was unconscious till a moment ago. Opened his eyes just as you came along." "Hm. Let's see." I felt a none too gentle hand finger my wound. It throbbed maddeningly. The doctor spoke again. "A nasty crack, but no fracture. Here, you--wake up." I made no move. "Come on, wake up!" I heard the plop of a cork being drawn from a bottle; a pungent odor assailed my nostrils, choked me. I writhed, pulled at the hand holding the bottle to my nose and opened my eyes. "That's better. How do you feel now?" I raised a hand to my injury and muttered, in Russian. "Hurts, papashka." I kept my expression as blank, as uncomprehending, as I could. The doctor flashed an understanding glance at the captain, then turned back to me. "What's your name?" Memories of my grandmother's tales of her youth came flooding back to me. "Pavel, son of Pauloff." It was the formula of the Russian student, in his teens. "Your rank?" "Second year. Petrovski Gymnasium." The physician turned away. "No use bothering him now. A clear case of amnesia. "He's been thrown back to his high school days. I've had a number of cases like that among your scouts lately." Blessed inspiration! "Only cure is rest. Get him over to the infirmary. We'll evacuate him to a base hospital to-morrow." * * * * * I was in a cool white bed, in a low ceilinged room, white painted. There were other beds, vacant. A uniformed male nurse puttered around. There was an elusive green tinge to the light that poured in through the one window. The door opened and a sergeant came in. "Comrade Alexis!" "Well, what is it now? Have they found another gold-bricking officer to mess up my clean beds?" "A party from corps headquarters will be here in fifteen minutes for inspection." "Let them come. They won't find any specks of rust on my instruments, like they did on Comrade Borisoff's." "They'd better not. You know what happened to him."