PUBLISHED BY McCLURE'S MAGAZINE AND METROPOLITAN MAGAZINE It was nearly midnight, and the battleship _Argyll_, stripped to bare steel, was drifting with banked fires but a full head of steam, waiting for daybreak to discover the enemy. New things were expected in this coming action. Wireless news had told of the presence of submarines, as yet unproved in war, and before the going down of the sun a high-power telescope on board had brought to view two small moving spots in the distant sky--airships; but whether they were friends or enemies had not been determined. No hammocks were piped that night--men slept…
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