“Look at the deck gun,” Stan said. “Wicked looking little thing.” [Illustration: _They Watched From the Dock_] He pointed to the 3-inch gun mounted on the flat deck forward of the conning tower. It was tightly covered with what appeared to be a canvas cover. March knew that the crew could have that cover off and the gun in action in a matter of seconds. March and Stan walked across the gangplank and looked up at the officer on the bridge of the conning tower. Saluting, they reported, and received a welcoming smile and the words, “Come on up!” They scrambled up the ladder and found themselves on the crowded bridge with two other men. “I’m Lieutenant Commander Sutherland,” said the man who had greeted them, “Executive Officer.” He turned to the other officer on the deck. “Captain Binkey—Lieutenant Anson and Ensign Bigelow reporting.” The Captain smiled as he returned their salute and then lapsed into his customary informal role. “Glad to have you aboard,” he said. “First ride, eh?” “Yes, sir,” March and Stan replied, feeling at ease at once in the old veteran’s presence. “Sutherland will show you around after we get started,” the Skipper said. “I imagine you’ll want to stay up here till we’re under way.” Sutherland turned to them. “You probably know from your studies what most of this is about,” he said. “Just a matter of seeing and feeling it to be at home. I know I don’t have to tell you every little detail the way the Chief down there is pointing out every steel plate to those ratings.” March and Stan glanced down to see that the Chief had led his enlisted men on to the deck of the submarine, where they were mingling with the regular crew who were preparing to cast off when the Captain ordered. “Whenever you want to know anything,” Sutherland went on, “just ask me and I’ll try to give you the answer. I imagine we’ll be casting off in a minute.” They saw the Chief Petty Officer leading his students down the torpedo-room hatch to the interior of the submarine, and for a moment March wanted to join them. “That will come later,” he said. “It’s important to see them cast off.” And that operation came without delay. At a word from the Captain, the executive officer began barking orders to the crew and to the enlisted men who stood at the controls on the bridge. The gangplank was taken away by men on the dock, the electric motors began to turn in the ship far below them, and lines were cast off. Slowly, trembling slightly beneath their feet, the pigboat slid back into the river away from the shore, churning up the water only slightly as it moved. Then suddenly, with a roar, the Diesels caught hold and white smoke poured from the exhaust vents on the sides of the boat. Stan grinned as he heard them, and March said, “Makes you feel at home to hear them, doesn’t it?” “Oh—is he a Diesel man?” Sutherland asked. “He dreams about them,” March replied. “I think he’s going to marry a Diesel some day!”