"I can't tell much," drawled Mac, a wiry, black little Southerner with a wonderful accent. "They fill the balloon up here, take it out to a destroyer or some patrol boat and tie it on, jes like a can to purp's tail. Then you go out in the Irish Sea and watch for subs. If you observe anything that looks like a Hun, you simply telephone it down to the destroyer's deck, and she rushes ahead and investigates. Sometimes the observer in the balloon sees something which can't be seen from the level of the destroyer's bridge, and in that case the balloonist practically steers the vessel, ... so many points to port, so many to starboard, and so on till you land them in the suspected area." "What's it like up above there in a balloon? From the deck of a battleship or a destroyer, it seems to be a calm matter." "Don't be too sure of that. I know it looks calm, calm as a regular up-in-the-air old feather baid. And it isn't bad if you have a decent wind with which the course and speed of the ship are in some sort of an agreement. But if the ship's course lies in one direction and the wind is blowing from another, the balloon blows all over the place. When the wind blows from behind, you float on ahead and try to pull the ship after you; if the wind is from ahead, you are dragged along at the end of a chain like a mean dawg. There is always sure to be a party if the ship zigzags. Now you are pulling towards the bow, now you are floating serenely to port, now you are tugging behind, now you are nowhere in particular and apparently standing on yo' haid." We went to walk in the grounds. I was shown where the balloon shed was to be, the generators, and a dozen other houses. Evidently the station was going to be "some outfit." Already a big gang of civilian labourers, electrified by American energy, were hard at work laying the foundations of a large structure. "Yes," said one of the boys, "this is going to be a great place. When it's completed we shall have regular sea-plane patrols of this entire coast, and a balloon squadron ready to coöperate with either the British or the American destroyer fleets. Our boys along the French coast have already made it hot for some Huns, and believe me, if there are any subs left, you just bet we want a chance at 'em?" Such is the spirit that has driven the Germans from the seas. XXVIII THE SAILOR IN LONDON