“Why not?” I allowed. “She’s got a better right to ride in a motor car than a lot of those high-falutin’ women who live in glass conning towers on Fifth Avenue and never had a son to fight for Uncle Sam. They take everything and they give nothing.” “Well, I wouldn’t quite say that, matey,” Bill answered thinking hard within the limits of his ability; “I used to be a kind of anarchist myself, I guess, as I always felt as how I’d like to throw a bomb--no, not a bum--into some of them swell places, but I’ve got all over it. Why? Because if it wasn’t for them big bugs, them rich Janes, there wouldn’t be any _Red Cross_, see? Every last one of ’em that is over eight and under eighty is handin’ out the coin, givin’ the glad hand and workin’ like gobs holystonin’ the decks and scrapin’ cable for us guys what’s in the navy and army. But I’m askin’ you, as man to man, matey, will you volunteer with me for submarine duty?” “I’m willing to try anything once, Bill, and I’ll take a chance with you on this submarine deal,” I told him. So Bill and I signed up for submarine service and after the crew to which we belonged had had intensive training for several weeks we were assigned to the _H-24_ and we went down to Newport to man her. There the first time I saw her she was swinging from a crane high in the air for this was the way they launch these sea babies. She was simply lifted bodily from the dock where she was assembled, swung over the water and gently deposited on the surface. It was a good thing that I had had experience on a submarine chaser for the quarters of this submarine were so small I couldn’t for the life of me see how her complement of men, of whom there were 36, including officers and seamen, could get into the boat, much less live and do their work. I suffered a good deal at first because when we were all inside her there wasn’t anywhere to go, not even out, when she was submerged. In fact I felt very much as though I was riding in the drawing room of a Pullman, or locked up in jail, which is about the same thing. As when we were on the chaser, I was the wireless man and Bill was the gunner whose business it was to work the rapid fire gun on deck. Bill didn’t mind being in the close quarters of the submarine at all and I took it that he must have been one of those kids who thought it great fun to snake his way through a fifteen foot length of gas-pipe main that was just big enough around to let his body pass providing he didn’t get stuck.