"S'pose I'm a bit out of practice," exclaimed the R.N.R. officer. "It used to be a favourite pastime in the old Foul Anchor Line. You see, if a Dago thought of using a knife, he'd consider twice when he knew a fellow could shoot straight. For my own part, I'd as lief use my fist in a close scrap, but you can't hit a periscope at two hundred yards with your fist. One of our skippers shattered one at two hundred--that was early in '15, when Fritz wasn't so careful as he was later--and it wasn't all luck either. He was a good shot, and no mistake." By this time Cumberleigh's threatened indisposition had passed away, and when a little later the _Hohenhoorn_ was sighted he had completely regained his sea-legs. In answer to an International Code signal the German vessel slowed down, and finally lost way within a couple of cables' lengths of Meredith's command. "Coming aboard?" inquired Kenneth, as No. 1497 ran alongside the towering hull of the Hun ship. Cumberleigh mentally measured the length of the wire rope ladder that had been let down from the vessel's bulwarks. Many a time he had clambered out of the fuselage of a blimp at anything up to five thousand feet, but the swinging monkey ladder as it flogged the side of the rolling ship was quite another proposition. He was on the point of declining the invitation when, looking up, he caught sight of a German officer regarding him with a supercilious smile. "Yes, I'm coming," he replied. "But one minute." Meredith paused in the act of making a cat-like spring, and stepped back a couple of paces. "What is it?" he asked. "See that fellow? He's an old acquaintance--von Preussen, to be exact." "Never," declared Meredith incredulously. "He wouldn't dare risk it." "He has, at any rate," said Cumberleigh. "More, he knows we can't touch him. Logically he's on German soil, and in a German vessel that's been given safe conduct." "I suppose you're right," admitted Kenneth regretfully. "All I can do is to report to the S.N.O." "That may stop his little game--for he's up to some mischief, I'll be bound," said Cumberleigh. "Right-o, I'll follow you!" The boarding-party, consisting of Meredith, Cumberleigh, a petty officer and two bluejackets, negotiated the ladder with no casualty beyond a few barked knuckles. Meredith, receiving and returning the German captain's salute, asked for the ship's papers. "And what is Herr von Preussen doing on board?" he demanded abruptly. "It vos mein order," replied the skipper of the _Hohenhoorn_. "Dis Zherman scheep." "Quite," agreed Meredith. "At the same time I warn you that von Preussen's presence will be reported, and it would be well if he refrained from any activities that will certainly lead to trouble. Now, I'll look under hatches." A systematic search of the holds revealed nothing in the nature of the cargo beyond what was stated in the official documents. Everything, apparently, was in order. "Now I'll see what's aft," declared the boarding officer.