"We'll get some of the shells meant for her," spluttered Sefton, who had not yet succeeded in getting rid of a few mouthfuls of salt which he had taken in when the picket-boat sank under him. "No fear; she'll screen us," answered Dick cheerfully. "We'll--" The sentence was never completed. A flying splinter of shell, dropping from an immense height, had struck the Sub on the head. Sefton was just in time to grab his superior officer by the coat-collar before he sank. "Bear a hand, Farnworth!" he exclaimed. "We can't let old Crosthwaite go, but I'm afraid it's a case!" * * * * * It was a fortnight later when Dick Crosthwaite opened his eyes. He was lying in Bighi Hospital at Malta, with his head swathed in surgical bandages. He felt horribly weak, and was unable to recollect the circumstances that led to his being in bed in a shore hospital. Two men were standing a short distance from his cot. Their backs were turned towards him, as they faced the open window. One he recognized as the genial captain of the _Hammerer_, the other was a fleet-surgeon on the hospital staff. "Then you feel fairly confident that you'll be able to pull him through?" asked the _Hammerer's_ skipper. "There's every chance. He's as hard as nails, and will bob up like a cork." "Rather a confusion of similes, my dear O'Loghlin," remarked the Captain with a chuckle. "All the same I'm glad to hear it. I want to ask you a favour. Let me know the moment Crosthwaite regains consciousness. I am particularly anxious, being his skipper, to be the first to tell him the good news." "Very good, sir," replied the doctor. "I'll bear that in mind." "It won't be detrimental to his recovery?" "Faith, that it won't! It will buck him up considerably when he knows he's to get the D.S.O. He'll be up and fit for duty before we force the Dardanelles, you mark my words. He'll be in at the death when we take Constantinople." "I hope so, too," agreed the captain of the _Hammerer_. "We can't afford to lose the services of such a promising young officer. I hope I'll live to see him attain flag rank." Dick raised himself on one elbow. "Thank you, sir!" he exclaimed. PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN _At the Villafield Press, Glasgow, Scotland_ BY PERCY F. WESTERMAN "No boy alive will be able to peruse Mr. Westerman's pages without a quickening of his pulses."--Outlook. The Sea-girt Fortress: A Story of Heligoland. "Mr. Westerman has provided a story of breathless excitement, and boys of all ages will read it with avidity."--Athenaeum. When East meets West: A Story of the Yellow Peril. "The book is an experience no boy should miss."--Outlook. "A remarkable, ingenious story."--Academy. Captured at Tripoli: A Tale of Adventure. "We cannot imagine a better gift-book than this to put into the hands of the youthful book-lover, either as a prize or present."--Schoolmaster.