In the meantime officers had invested themselves in their full-dress uniforms with side arms, and an hour after the order had been first transmitted the signal to "Up Anchor" fluttered out from the halliards of the flagship. Aboard the _Manhattan_ especially excitement ran at high tension, for Mr. Varian himself had come aboard that morning in a shore boat, and it was an open secret that the big twelve-inch gun, fitted with his Chaosite breech--was to receive its first sea test. The first sight that greeted the eyes of Herc and Ned, reporting for duty in their turret as the squadron got under way beneath a pall of black smoke, was the unveiling, so to speak, of the inventor's masterpiece. Mr. Varian and Lieutenant Timmons, the ship's gunnery officer in command of the turret, had their heads together over the intricate piece of machinery as the two Dreadnought Boys entered the steel-walled box, in which they were practically a part of the machinery. The inventor greeted them with a kindly nod. Perhaps the thought shot into his mind that had it not been for the pluck and clear-headedness of one of the Dreadnought Boys, he might not have been there. "Is there any news, sir?" Ned asked respectfully, as soon as he got a chance to speak to the inventor. "No. The launch that was sent to intercept the Pulsifers' vessel has not yet reported, but we may hear from her at any time now." "Let us hope that the rascals haven't got a start and boarded some passenger vessel at sea," put in Lieutenant Timmons. As the officer joined in the conversation Ned saluted and went to another part of the turret. It is not naval usage for an enlisted man to converse with an officer, and Ned was far too well-trained a young man-o'-warsman to break any rule, even the unwritten ones, which in the navy are almost as numerous as the codified regulations. The excitement under which all hands labored was, however, far too keen to allow even the thoughts of the Pulsifers' capture to interfere with present duty. Especially was this the case on two of the vessels of the squadron--the _Idaho_, the holder of the coveted meat-ball, and, as has been mentioned, the _Manhattan_, every jackie on board of which vessel longed with his whole soul to see the gunnery flag flying from the Dreadnought's main. The scores stood even between the big guns of the two battleships now, and the open secret that the morning practice was to be made, in large part, with the Varian gun and explosive made the _Manhattan's_ jackies fearful that they might lose, after all.