"Trent," he said, catching his astonished junior by the arm, "come with me into the chart-room, but first of all tell the steward to send me up a cup of hot coffee and rum." When they were in the chart-room together, and Lawless was imbibing the stimulating beverage, he related between gulps his amazing adventures since falling overboard, as well as a plan for trapping submarines. "I'm almost convinced," he concluded with cheery optimism, "that everything happens for the best after all." "But supposing your tank theory is right," said Trent, who secretly doubted the accuracy of the Lieutenant's deductions, "how d'you know any _U_ boat will tap your tank to-night? Seems to me the best thing would be to wait till morning and then sink the thing." "And lose the chance of doing in at least one enemy submarine!" "Or we could tie up to the buoy and plug any _U_ boat that came up to the surface." "Why, you fathead!" exclaimed Lawless, "if we tied up to the buoy the bally submarine might come up immediately under our keel. And if she didn't, how are we to spot her on a pitch-black night like this? You might turn on the bull's eye, but they'd spot the light through their periscope and either torpedo us or do a bunk. No, you must stick to my plan." "H'm, perhaps you're right." "And there'd be no sport your way." "As to sport----" began Trent, but the Lieutenant cut him short. "You'll carry out my instructions," he said, curtly. "Now bear down on that buoy again." The destroyer approached the bell-buoy once more, and Lawless, having provided himself with a loaded revolver, prepared to resume his former uncomfortable post on the tiny, wave-washed platform. "Remember," he said, when about to spring on to the buoy, "you've got to start operations before the sound of my shot dies away, otherwise we draw a blank." He swung himself over the deck-rail, reached the buoy safely, and next moment the searchlight was switched off and the _Knat_ disappeared in the darkness. The first thing Lawless did was to remove his muffler from the bell-clapper so that the sound should serve as a guide to any enemy submarines that might be searching for the secret supply tank. This done, he settled down to wait, with what patience he could muster, for the arrival of his hoped-for victims. For over an hour he remained there, half-drowned, cold and nearly deafened by the bell. Presently he began to wonder whether, after all, he might not have made a mistake in his deductions concerning the tank. It also occurred to him that if this proved to be the case and he captured nothing but a severe attack of rheumatism, he would become the laughing-stock of the Fleet. He could imagine how the story would be passed from ship to ship with suitable elaborations. "Heard about that silly ass, Lawless? Spent the whole night lashed to a bell-buoy, fishing for German submarines with a bent pin and a petrol tank for bait!"