said, you can't rightly expect a class of vessel like that Sandfly there to keep up with the likes of us; she ain't built same as these Hull boats."

"No, perhaps not," said Jones, "but I've never noticed her very far astern when we are on our way into harbour; she can do better than she is doing now if she likes."

"Those Scotch-built boats are all very well for the purpose for which they are constructed," continued the skipper, warming up to his favourite discussion, "and if you notice..."

"That's all right, skipper," interrupted Jones, who by this time was half-way down the ladder leading from the wheelhouse to his small cabin immediately below, where he extracted the code from the box in which it was kept. Stephens, his skipper, was an incorrigible believer in everything, either men or ships, which came from his native town of Hull. Fortunately for his own peace of mind, he was skipper of as fine an example of a pre-war Iceland trawler as had ever been turned out from that port, and he was extravagantly proud of her.

No one knew better than Jones himself what a fine sea boat the Sir Thomas Dancer was, and how well built and fitted; but though she had these and many other attributes, she was not at all a fast ship; in fact, in smooth water she was one of the slowest of the group. However, nothing would ever convince Stephens that she was not a regular

ocean greyhound, and Jones had long ago given up arguing the matter.

He sat down with the signal in front of him and commenced to decode it. "I hope it's a trifle more interesting than the last dozen I've had," he said to himself; "but it's probably some more rubbish about aircraft codes or something as equally useless in this benighted part of the world, where an aeroplane or a zeppelin is even rarer than a glass of beer or a mail."

The message in this case, however, turned out to be quite interesting. It was from the cruiser stationed in the harbour on which the trawlers were based, and read as follows: "Master of 8.8. Baron reports that he passed close to a floating mine at 6 A.M. to-day about half a mile north-east of No. 15 buoy. Report appears to be reliable." Jones replaced the code in its box and climbed up into the wheel-house again. "Well, skipper, how is the Sandfly getting on now?" "She is catching us up a bit, sir," said the skipper, rather reluctantly, "so I've whistled down to tell Arthur to give her all he oan." Arthur was the chief engineer, also a Hull man, and the two men saw eye to eye on all matters which concerned the reputation of their ship or their native port.

go down to have a look for it. Signalman, hoist the signal to wheel four points to starboard, and have the signal to slip ready."

The flags for the wheel were duly hoisted, and Jones stood watching the other five trawlers' masts for the signal to be repeated. "All repeated except the John Brown, sir," said the signalman down the voice - pipe. After waiting three or four minutes the signal was slowly repeated in the John Brown; the order to haul down the signal was then given, and the six trawlers turned in good formation to starboard and steered out away from the channel which they had been sweeping.

This necessary precaution was always carried out before slipping the sweeps, as it is quite possible for a pair of trawlers to have a mine in

their sweep for some time without knowing it, and should they slip while still in the channel the mine might remain undetected in the path of shipping.

When about a mile clear of the channel the signal to slip was hoisted and duly repeated by all five without loss of time, and for the next ten minutes steam was to be seen pouring out of the funnels of the trawlers as they lay in the trough of the sea heaving in their wire hawsers with their huge steam winches.

When the last one had finished, Jones gave the order to hoist the signal to form single line abreast to starboard, ships one mile apart, course to

be steered south-east. Once again the John Brown was the last ship to repeat the signal.

"Haul down," said Jones, "and now hoist to John Brown, 'Pay more attention to signals." The John Brown's answering pendant was kept at half-mast for some time, before being hoisted close up to indicate that the signal was understood. "Must think we've made a mistake in our signal, and that it can't be meant for him,” growled Stephens, who had been gazing at the trawler for some minutes through his glasses.

The signal to look out for floating mines was then hoisted, and this was slowly repeated down the fast extending line of ships, who by this time were opening out on to the five-mile front they had been ordered to take up.

A careful observer would have noticed a man climbing up on to the forecastle head of each trawler, from which position he was able to locate any object floating in the water close under the bows.

This formation was maintained for the next few hours, but nothing was seen. The line of trawlers covered and extended about two miles each side of the ship channel, and made it quite certain that any mine floating in or near the channel would be seen.

It was now about 5 P.M., and there were only about four hours more daylight. Jones ordered the signal to be hoisted to turn together sixteen points, and as the signal was hauled down each trawler turned completely

round, and commenced to retrace her steps in the opposite direction.

"I think it must be a false alarm after all," said Jones to Stephens, who had just come on deck again to keep the first watch, "but we'll run back over the spot again before dark to make sure we haven't missed it. I have had a look at the tides, and by now the mine ought to be in the same spot as where it was seen, and what wind there has been has been up and down the channel, so that I don't see how we could have missed it if it had been there,"

"No," said Stephens, "nor me neither; but I don't place much reliance in these reports from merchant ships,-more likely a porpoise or an old tin can than a mine. It's my opinion, sir," he continued, "that we shan't get any mines up here this year; depend upon it, the spies in Hull have told these Germans that we are up here sweeping, and they'll know it would be waste of time sending any up here now."

"I don't know about that," said Jones, "but certainly so far this year they have rather neglected us. Mr Rendle in the Foam was very indignant about it the other night in the mess, and blamed our Admiralty for it. He wanted me to write a letter to complain about it, but I said that I was afraid it would not come under the heading of a legitimate grievance, as defined by the King's Regulations and Admiralty Instructions. He insisted, though, that some one was responsible for

what he called the dull time he was having, and thought that the Admiralty and the Foreign Office might share the blame equally, and said that so far in this war everything went to show that people who were far from home were neglected by the authorities."

"Well, sir," said Stephens, "it may be dull, but I prefer it to too much liveliness. I had a letter from my brother-in-law, who is working out of Lowestoft, by last mail, and he said that things there were altogether too lively for his way of thinking, though he could not say much, of course, on account of this 'ere censor.'

"It will be dark in a couple of hours," said Jones, "and we shall have to give up this wild - goose chase. Hullos, what is that?"

"The Scurry has got something up, sir," said the signalman, "but I can't distinguish the flag, and the John Brown has not repeated it."

"Edge in towards her," said Jones to the skipper, as he tried to keep his telescope focussed on the small piece of bunting floating half-way up the mast of the distant trawler. "I wish this confounded ship would keep still," he added a moment later, "I can't keep my telescope on it for a second."

"Why, sir, she's a deal quieter than the Sandfly there," said the skipper in an aggrieved voice; "you ought to be in one of those Aberdeen boats for a bit to know what a really lively ship is."

"Rubbish," said Jones irritably; "all these blooming

trawlers are the same, but I am pretty sure that it is the flag for a floating mine in sight."

At that moment the look-out on the forecastle announced that he could plainly hear riflefiring. "Hoist the signal to cease firing at once," said Jones. "I hope to goodness they won't hit it, as I particularly want to examine it to see what type it is."

By this time the Sir Thomas Dancer was closing the trawler which had sighted the mine, for a mine it undoubtedly was, and though they had been firing at it for some minutes it could still be seen bobbing about on the surface. As the signal to cease fire was repeated the firing gradually ceased. The Sir Thomas Dancer steamed slowly up and stopped about fifty yards from the mine.

"Who the devil is that firing still?" said Jones angrily, as a bullet whipped up the water about thirty yards from the ship, and quite a hundred yards from the mine.

"The John Brown, sir," said the signalman promptly.

"Damn the John Brown," said Jones; "tell her to come within hail."

Meanwhile every glass and telescope in the ship was levelled on the mine. "It looks very low in the water," said Stephens. "I expect one of the sharpshooters must have hit it after all. I think I can make out a hole between the two right-hand horns."

"Yes," said Jones, "it will sink all right in the end, but I

believe that mine is moored. Can't you see a ripple going past it."

For the next few minutes every eye was endeavouring to detect signs of a ripple, which would show that the mine was held in its position by moorings.

It was soon evident that Jones had been right: the mine heeled over gradually to the tide, which was beginning to "make," leaving a distinct wake on the surface of the water, and a few minutes later it disappeared beneath the surface.

"By Jove," exclaimed Jones, "there's no error about that— it is a moored mine of quite a new type, so you can be sure that it is not the only one that has been laid. That particular one won't cause us any more trouble now though, as it will soon sink with that hole in it, once it gets down below the surface."

He rapidly took bearings of the two channel buoys still in sight in the failing twilight, to enable the position of the mine to be placed on the chart, and then moving the ship about half a mile clear of the channel, he told the signalman to tell the Scurry and the Ben Nevis, the two subdivision leaders who were with him, to come within hail.

"Ay, ay, sir," sang out the signalman, "here's the John Brown close under the quarter."

Jones had forgotten about the John Brown, but picking up the megaphone he walked out on to the verandah and hailed her. The smiling face

of a man of about fifty years of age looked out of the wheelhouse window and politely wished him good evening.

"Good evening, skipper," said Jones; "I wanted to find out why your signalman is so slow-he is always last, and delays everybody."

"Well, sir," said the skipper, with a broad Tyneside accent, "you told me to pick out the most suitable man for signalman when we commissioned, and I chose this man on account of his having been a signalman for three years before he joined up. Still, I will say that he don't behave at all as if he was used to the work, and it's my belief he knows no morse at all."

Jones raised his megaphone to the level of the upper bridge, where the signalman was standing, and hailed him. "Why are you so slow at repeating and answering signals? You are the worst signalman in the whole fleet, and there is no excuse for you at all, if you have had three years' experience before you joined up."

"I does my best, sir," replied the signalman, "but I'd like to explain that there was some little misunderstanding between me and the skipper over this signalling job. The day before we sailed,

the

skipper, he asked if any of us deck-hands had done any signalling before, and none of us said nothing until one of the blokes said, 'Why, this man has been a signalman for three years.' So the skipper he says, All right, Joshua Tanored, you take on signal duties,' and

would not give me the chance of hexplaining the mistake."

"I don't understand," said Jones; "what was the mistake?"

"Why, sir, my signalling that I used to do before the

war was altogether different to anything of this sort. I was attached to one of them there steam-rollers.”

"Well, you must try and improve," said Jones, doing his best not to laugh; "at present you are the worst signalman in the squadron.'

"I am sure I always does my best, sir," said the man, looking rather hurt.

"All right, skipper," said Jones, "you will stay in company with me to-night. Oh, by the bye, why did you go on firing long after every one else had ceased firing, and who was it who was shooting so infernally badly-he nearly hit us?"

"It was our petty officer here," said the skipper. "He tells me he was a marksman last time he went through the range."

"When was that?" said Jones to the petty officer, a white-bearded man of anything up to sixty years of age, who was standing on the upper deck.

"In '96, sir, when I was requalifying after paying off the Ramillies; but I'm afraid my eyesight ain't what it was.'

66

Here's the Scurry alongside the other side, sir," sang out the signalman from the upper bridge.

Jones walked round the verandah to the other side and