“Fine—one of the best,” March said. “He’s quiet and reserved, serious-minded, but with a nice sense of humor you don’t always suspect is there.” “I like that kind,” Gray said. “I was a little hesitant about having a new pharmacist on board. It can be a mighty important job if there’s serious sickness or trouble. Think he can stand the gaff?” “I think he’d get better the more difficult the situation,” March said. “One of the prizes of the bunch is that Cobden. He really has guts.” March told the Skipper about Cobden’s experience with the escape tower and his overcoming of his emotional fears. [Illustration: _The Skipper Was at the Door_] “That’s swell,” Gray commented. “Nothing much can lick anybody after that. With our Chief in the torpedo room, Kalinsky, the man ought to turn into a real submariner. Pete Kalinsky is one of the best men in the whole Navy. Men under him love him, and they learn plenty, too.” March looked up as the red head and bulldog face of Stan Bigelow appeared. He sat down and joined them in a cup of coffee. The engineering officer was smiling broadly. “Did you ever hear anything prettier than those engines?” he demanded. “Well—the Philharmonic is pretty good,” March laughed, “and I think I prefer Bing Crosby.” “Not me!” Stan exclaimed. “That purr is the sweetest sound there is. And are those beauties! The very latest thing, you know, the very latest!” “I personally ordered them that way,” Gray smiled. “And I’m glad you’re satisfied. I never liked an engineer that didn’t have a deep and abiding affection for his engines.” After talking a while, March went to the chartroom and went through the detailed maps idly, picking out one here and there that looked interesting to him. “Celebes—Pago-Pago—Ceylon—and look at this, Wake Island! Some of those names sound wonderful. Wonder if we’ll hit any of them.” Later he went up to the bridge again and found that Larry Gray had relieved Corvin. “I feel sort of useless,” he said. “Nothing to do yet.” “Nothing much for any of us to do right now,” Gray said. “Plain sailing like this isn’t very hard. Most of the crew are lying down, reading, playing checkers or just shooting the breeze. Why don’t you have a little rest?” “Not I,” March said. “Not on my first day out. I don’t want to miss anything. Anyway, in another hour we ought to be getting away from land a bit, and a couple of hours after that you’ll be opening your orders. I want to know where we’re going just as soon as I can.”