"Got you cold, by Jove!" he ejaculated. "Submarine Service--a precious lot I know about it, 'cept that I know a U-boat when I spot her. Leastways, I thought I did until I mistook your hooker for Fritz: but you fired on me first, my man. Ha! ha! ha! Submarine indeed!" "Well, isn't this one?" inquired Wakefield. "She won't submerge unless a Hun tinfish gets her," replied Morpeth oracularly. "And that ain't likely, since Fritz can't distinguish between a real U-boat and this old hooker. We're just a decoy." "Sort of Q-boat?" asked Meredith. "You've about hit it, old thing," replied the R.N.R. man. "We're just off to the Heligoland Bight to see if that fish will bite. Excuse my joke. Hope you're not in a hurry, 'cause you'll have to be shipmates along with us for the next fortnight." "Any old job'll suit me," said Wakefield. "The only thing that troubles me is how we are to get in touch with the S.N.O., Auldhaig. We'll be posted as missing and all that sort of thing." "Can't help you there," declared Morpeth. "We don't get in touch with patrolling craft during this stunt for a very good reason. They'd fire on us at sight long before we could establish our identity." "Why not wireless?" suggested Meredith. "We've got a wireless rigged up, but we don't use it except in cases of actual danger," explained Morpeth. "Once we start sending out messages all our chances go by the board. Fritz might intercept them, and there you are. We'll receive as many as they care to send, and a fine old collection we've got. You should see our wireless decoder with his German signal code-book. That's the way to get a true insight into the U-boat campaign. No, gentlemen, it can't be did; but I'll do my level best to make you comfortable. There's a spare bunk in my cabin, Mr. Wakefield, and Mr. Meredith can have a hammock slung in the ward-room. As for grub, there's enough and to spare for all hands." "Good enough!" exclaimed Wakefield heartily. "Only I hope you've got a job for us?" "You trust me for that," rejoined the R.N.R. officer grimly. He glanced at the clock on the after-bulkhead. "Seven bells," he remarked. "We've spent a solid hour kagging away when we ought to be turned in. It'll be daybreak in another hour. Tired?" Wakefield and Meredith replied in the negative. The excitement of the unfortunate engagement was still making itself felt, rendering the desire for sleep impossible. "Take my tip and turn in," suggested Morpeth. "I'll get the steward to bring some grub first, and then you'll be all right for the next few hours. You'll excuse me, but I must see how things are going on deck. I've got a ripping officer of the watch, but at the same time the responsibility is mine." Picking up his cap, the gold lace and badge of which was green with exposure to the salt spray, Lieutenant-Commander Morpeth left his involuntary guests and went on deck.