Atlantic seaboard.

"Maybe we can spy the Three Eights," Torry said, referring to the
submarine chaser in which they had pursued the _Sarah Coville_ a few
days before. "Mr. MacMasters must have been relieved of the command of
her before this, don't you think?"

"Don't know," Whistler rejoined, breaking off in his whistling briefly.

"But where is he?" queried the anxious Frenchy.

"Don't worry," Whistler said. "He'll be here."

"Oi, oi! If he don't come," said Ikey, "we're marooned, eh?"

"That'll be fierce!" growled Frenchy Donahue. "I've got just fifty-five
cents left, and one of the nickels is punched. I can see my finish if he
doesn't show up to-day."

The chums soon discovered that they were not the only boys from the Navy
in town. By ones and twos other bluejackets made their appearance on
the water-front. But there was not even a petty officer assigned to the
port to meet them.

The four friends from Seacove learned that every enlisted man and
apprentice they talked with was assigned to the _Kennebunk_, and
immediately all fraternized.

At noon time the bluejackets marched up town in a body to Yancey's and
flocked into that eating place like a swarm of hungry locusts. Abe, the