The five young officers of the two services had seated themselves on top of the deck-house at the rear of the bridge-deck. Hank Butts sat midway down on the deck-house, yawning as though he would like to turn in. After he had got his engine working smoothly Engineer Joe Dawson came up from the engine room forward, taking his stand beside Skipper Tom Halstead. For five minutes Joe was silent, as the boat kept on up the Rio Grande. He half-turned, once in a while, to cast a covertly-admiring glance at the young officers seated at their rear. At last Joe whispered exultantly in his chum's ear: "Tom, that's a real fighting bunch." "You've hit the truth at first trial," returned Skipper Tom, in an undertone, as he kept his glance ahead over the river. "I'm not much given to exaggeration, am I, Tom?" "I never knew that you had an acquaintance with exaggeration," Halstead answered. "Then perhaps you'll believe me, Tom, when I tell you that I'd follow those officers over Niagara or into Vesuvius, if they happened to be bound either way." "I know you would, Joe," Tom answered, without smiling, for he knew his chum through and through. "Tom, those young officers would _assay up a big lot of fight to the ton_!" Having thus relieved himself of that strong conviction Joe Dawson seated himself on the roof of the forward house and did not speak again for twenty minutes. By the time that the eight miles upstream had been covered, and Skipper Tom Halstead had headed the boat down again for its straight sixteen-mile run, he called down to his chum: "Joe, will you come up and hold the wheel for me for two or three minutes?" "Coming," Dawson sang cheerily. But Dave Darrin stepped forward with: "Skipper, can't _I_ hold the wheel for you?" "Have you ever handled a boat before, sir?" Tom queried, giving this young man, who was in civilian dress, a keen though good-humored look. "At least twice," Darrin modestly assured him. "How big a boat?" "Up to sixteen thousand tons," Darrin replied, without cracking a smile. "A wise man is always cautious, Halstead," sang out Lieutenant Prescott gleefully, "but the man you're talking to is Ensign Darrin of the United States Navy." "Take the wheel, Mr. Darrin," replied the youthful skipper, with a grin, while Joe, halfway up the engine-room steps, took in the scene. "I heard Mr. Darrin introduced merely as 'mister,'" Halstead explained to the other officers. "I thought he was either an Army man, or some civilian friend who had come along." Skipper Tom Halstead then went below to his stateroom, while observant Joe Dawson noted that Darrin handled the wheel with skill. "Shall I give you a little more speed, Mr. Darrin?" called Joe softly. "I'm only a guest," Dave replied. "Mr. Overton is in command here." "Thank you, Engineer, but, as we're only cruising I believe our best move will be to stick to Captain Foster's nine-mile order," Hal replied, nodding to Joe.