corner of the building. Dropping to the ground, and lying flat, the
submarine boy allowed only the top of his head to show as he peeped.

Glory! Jack knew, well enough, that tall figure striding off into the
gloom. It was Millard, and under his left arm the fellow carried a
large package that might be a bulky portfolio well wrapped.

"He has his drawings--his maps of American fortifications and fortified
harbors--the very stuff that we want to get!" throbbed the boy. "And
now--we're going to get them!"

Keeping Millard's receding figure zealously in sight, Jack, crouching
low, started after the long-legged one as soon as the distance between
seemed sufficient to keep Millard from guessing at pursuit.

"Oh, how I wish Hal and Eph were here!" muttered Captain Jack, in keen
disappointment.

"I need help on this!"

Within two minutes Millard had struck into a well-beaten path that led
northward over succeeding ridges of laud. In a way, it was easier
following here, for there were occasional trees and clumps of bushes
behind which the young shadow could drop at need.

Two minutes in this path, and Jack Benson's heart gave another quick
leap. Some one else was coming stealthily behind him. Jack dodged
around a clump of bushes and waited.

"Hal!" breathed Jack, almost wild with joy, as the two chums clasped