"Though I won't claim that they're any finer than your own West Point boys." That brought an added flush to the color in Laura Bentley's face, and her eyes sparkled her gratitude, for Dick Prescott, now at West Point with his chum, Greg Holmes, had been her High School sweetheart, and doubtless was to become her Army sweetheart after he had made sure of his career.
"Dave and Dan are experts," glowed Miss Bentley.

"They'll know just what to do." "They're better than mere experts," returned Belle Meade.

"They're strong and manly to the core, and with them there's no such word as fear when there's a duty to be done." Both Dave and Dan were peering fixedly ahead all the time that they drove the sailboat toward the scene of the late disaster.
"I think I see a head," cried Darrin.
"Boy or girl!" demanded Midshipman Dalzell.
"Can't tell at this distance.

And now the next wave has blotted out what I thought I saw." "We've got to be patient," uttered Dan.
The position of the midshipmen was far from being free of danger.

With all their coolness and their undoubted skill in boat handling, there was grave danger, with the mainsail set, that, at any instant, wind and wave would capsize the boat.
Indeed, Dave was running the lee gunwale under water half the time, trusting to the human ballast supplied by his comrade to keep them afloat.
"See anything now ?" demanded Dave.
"No," uttered Dan, "though I'm working my eyes three shifts to try to make out something.