"_Sleep_, sir?" echoed Lieutenant Hal bitterly. "Rest, then, at all events." For two or three hours the Army boy lay and tossed. Toward morning, however, he secured some real sleep. When he opened his eyes it was to find Noll in the tent. "I've heard the news, old bunkie," cried Terry, coming forward as soon as he saw his comrade's eyes open. "All rot! Forget it. It'll come out all right. When Prescott and Holmes heard the news they laughed aloud over the absurdity of it." "I wish I was as sure of every one's faith in me," quivered the Army boy, returning his chums' hand-grip. "Get up and dress. Captain Foster has had his meal, but the others are all waiting for you to hurry through to the table." Three other young officers had crowded into the tent before Hal had finished dressing. "The whole thing is absurd, Overton," declared Lieutenant Dick Prescott. "Holmesy and I have told Captain Foster so. We had you under our eyes in the Thirty-fourth during most of your more than three years of service. We know you too well to believe a word of any such fool charge against you." "Even in the face of the money found in my holster?" asked Hal smiling wistfully. "Huh!" retorted Lieutenant Greg Holmes. "It wouldn't shake our belief in you, old man, if the whole United States Treasury had been found hiding in your holster! Now, forget it all, as well as you can, Overton. Leave it to your friends, who will be cooler-headed, to find the way out from under this toy cloud. Why, even Foster knows it's all so absurd that he doesn't order you under arrest." "Thank you all, fellows," replied Hal, his eyes gleaming as he shook hands with all three of his Army comrades and with the friend from the Navy. "I'll brace and fight every inch of the way. But," he could not help adding, wistfully, "I wish I could see how I am going to be able to clear myself so that not even a trace of a taint of suspicion can rest against any name." The youngsters tried to make breakfast a merry meal, though they were not wholly successful. During the night, following the taking of the prize, Skipper Tom Halstead, it seemed, had been entertaining the four young officers left aboard the "Restless" with several exciting tales of his own wholly exciting life as a motor boat master. Most of these tales are already familiar to the readers of the "MOTOR BOAT CLUB SERIES." "What's Halstead's home port?" asked Hal, rather absently, for, naturally, his mind was rather full of his own troubles. "Some little place near the mouth of the Kennebec River," Prescott answered. "Then isn't he a long way from home?" asked Hal. "Halstead often is a long way from home," nodded Lieutenant Holmes. "Not so very long ago Halstead commanded a yacht on the Pacific Ocean, and had some of his most rousing adventures at that time." "It's young fellows like Halstead, Joe Dawson and that queer genius, Hank Butts, who are needed to build up the American merchant marine once more," Prescott continued.