“If promotion means nothing to you, And comfort you can forswear, And you’re willing to be forgotten, And to work every day in the year; If you’re fond of taking your chances, And the praises of Admirals you shun, Pick an eight-knot tramp of the N.R.F. Carrying coal on the Channel Run. “The job is a stranger to honors, It’s also a stranger to shame. There’s naught to win and your life to lose ’Midst its dirt, its dangers, its damns; But once you have laughed its laughter, And the cynic has captured your soul, You can smile at the rest as you do your best To approach an illusive goal. “My lad, there is nothing to it, There’s nothing,—and yet,— and yet, It is something to strive for nothing; That is something—don’t you forget. So if you are in for the game of it, And you’ve got sufficient nerve, Pick an eight-knot tramp on the Channel Run, Of the U.S.N. Reserve.” The _Corsair_ laid a course for the secret meeting-place where she hoped to make contact with the convoy and picked up the Lizard Light, cruising in rough water for a day and a night until the flotilla of merchant ships was sighted, when she signalled the _Erny_ to follow and so returned to France. This errand brought the month of August to a close. It would have seemed incredible to the crew, before they sailed from home, that they could spend a summer in the war zone and steam more than eleven thousand miles without seeing a submarine or enjoying the excitement of a torpedo attack. They had passed large quantities of floating wreckage, tragic evidence that the enemy was active, and the S.O.S. calls of frightened ships had often come to the radio-room, but this was all. One inference was that the yachts had been of real service and that the U-boats were learning to be wary of them and their rapid-fire batteries. The autumn was to be much more eventful. On September 5th the _Corsair_ stood out from Brest to look for an American supply convoy which included the valuable steamers _Edward Luckenbach_, _Dakotan_, _Montanan_, and _El Occidente_. While steering for the latitude and longitude named in the confidential orders, a small boat under oars and sail was descried from the bridge. A few minutes later a second boat was sighted, and the _Corsair_ bore down to save the castaways who were frantically appealing for help. They were in two dories, eleven men in all, who were hauled aboard and made comfortable by the crew of the yacht. They were from the French fishing vessel _Sadi Carnot_ which had been shelled by a submarine while homeward bound from the Grand Banks to Saint-Malo with a cargo of salted cod.