"What is the butcher's bill, M.O.?" asked the Engineer-commander. The surgeon shrugged his shoulders. Of all the ship's company he was perhaps the best able to estimate war at its true value. Without providing the excitement of combat his work brought clearly before him just those nerve-racking details which the fighting man himself is too busy to realize until such time as they cannot influence his conduct. "Heavy," he replied. "Very heavy. Some people are fond of telling you that war is one remedy for over-population. It is: only it starts at the wrong end. The weakling and the man who has enjoyed life go scot-free, or nearly always, while youth and strength pay the toll." "S'pose it's the same with t'other side," observed "Jimmy the One", after the M.O. had gone. "That pot-bellied bald-headed president of theirs tells 'em to go and get killed, and they do. Dash the Washington Conference, say I. If we'd a navy--an incontestably strong navy--President Jaime Samuda wouldn't have dared to declare war. We're winning, but look at the price we've paid--our ship alone." "Sooner we get back to a Two or even a Three Power standard, the better for everybody," added the Chaplain. "'Defence, not defiance', you know. A big navy is synonymous with security; a small navy--well--a big casualty list, and I've seen enough of a dressing-station to-day to make me plump for an Umpteen Power Standard." "And what's your opinion, Padre, about disarmament?" inquired the Engineer-commander. "Only the other day, when we were lying at Bermuda--after ye with the butter, Weeds, old son--at Bermuda, you remarked--hello! there's action stations!" The shrill notes of a bugle had the effect of clearing the ward-room almost as quickly as if a hostile shell had made a sudden and unexpected entry. In double quick time the already battle-worn officers raced off to their respective posts. "It's 'hands to night defence'," corrected Cavendish, as the two chums gained the quarter-deck. "Well, thank goodness we're in the same watch-bill. It's going to be a sticky night." Their station was on the fore-bridge, which, since the ship was going astern, corresponded to the after-bridge. Here, Cavendish was in charge of the searchlight party and the light quick-firers. Corbold's task was to take charge of the hands told off to work the anti-aircraft ray apparatus, since it was quite possible that the Rioguayan air fleet would attempt to make good the disaster to their surface ships. But nothing of the kind happened. No hostile flying-boat was reported. Neither were the enemy submarines in evidence, although several of the crippled British light cruisers and destroyers offered an easy target in the bright starlight of the tropical night. Away to the north-west flashes of gunfire were still visible, while now and again far-flung bursts of flame indicated the business-like activities of the British torpedo craft in the same quarter.