One morning, having convoyed a fleet of merchant ships safely up the channel, the 323 was one of a group of destroyers making the best of their way to their base port. Officers and men who have been hunting U-boats for a week or so do not like to linger along the road home; so it was every young captain giving his ship all the steam she could stand and let her belt. It was breaking white water all around when they started. It grew rougher. Chisholm in the 323 was going along at twenty knots when a poker-playing chum came along in his big 1,000-ton destroyer. Her nose hauled up on the quarter of the 323; up to her beam; up to her bridge. As he passed the 323--and he passed quite close to let all hands view the passing--the poker-playing friend leaned out and megaphoned across: "What you making, Chiz?" "Twenty knots!" hailed back Chisholm. "I am seeing your twenty knots and raising you five!" returned the other, and passed on. "The boiler-riveted nerve of him!" gasped Chiz. "But let him wait!" The sea grew yet rougher. The 323 was bouncing pretty lively, but hanging onto her twenty knots. "And at twenty you let her hang if she rolls her crow's nest under!" said Chisholm to his watch-officer, "and I'll betcher we won't be acting rudder to this bunch going into port!" It was at ten in the morning that the big one had passed them. It was four in the afternoon, and the 323 was still going along at twenty knots when from out of the drizzle ahead her bridge made out the stern and funnels of a destroyer. It was Chiz's poker-playing chum, and his ship was making heavy weather of it. The able little 323 came up to her stern; breasted her waist, her bridge, and as he passed her (and he came quite close to let all hands view the passing), young Captain Chisholm leaned out from his bridge and roared through a long megaphone: "I _call_ yuh!" He beat the big one fifty minutes into the naval base. * * * * * There are two channels leading into the naval base port--call them West and East. This same Chisholm was one day headed for port in the usual hurry and was already well into the west channel when a signal was whipped out from the signal hill. It was for his ship and it read: "West Channel mined last night by U-boats. Proceed to sea and come in by East Channel." Chiz did not proceed to sea. All the harbor men who were watching saw him come straight on through the gap in the barrage, and safely on to his mooring. Also all the harbor knew that next morning he had to report to the admiralty and explain. The story of his explanation was not told by himself. But an officer friend, a great admirer--call him Mac--had gone with him to the admiralty. Here the next day Mac told the story in the smoke-room of the King's Hotel: "Well, Chiz went and--you know his courtly style--he has his cape over his shoulders--and he salaams and says, 'Good morning, sir.'