It was a critical moment aboard the American submarine. Out of the darkness the destroyer—-speed king of the modern navies—-had emerged just at the moment theDeweywas sending home the shot that laid low the German cruiser.
Dashing along at a speed better than thirty knots an hour, the greyhound of the Teutonic fleet was bearing down hard upon the Yankee. Evidently the lookout on the destroyer had marked the path of theDewey'storpedo in the dim gray of the night sea, and with his skipper had sent his craft charging full tilt at the American "wasp."
"If they get to us before we submerge we are done for," gasped Lieutenant McClure, as he bellowed orders to Navigating Officer Binns to lower away as fast as the submerging apparatus would permit. Then the quick-witted commander rang the engine room full speed ahead at the same time he threw the helm hard to port in an effort to bring his craft around parallel with the charging destroyer and thus make a smaller target.
Down, down, down sank theDeweyas her valves were opened and the sea surged into the ballast tanks. The periscopes had been well out of water when the destroyer had first been sighted. It was now a race between two cool and cunning naval officers—-the German to hurl his vessel full upon the American submarine and deal it a death blow; the American skipper to outwit and outmaneuver his antagonist by putting theDeweydown where she would be safe from the steel nose of the destroyer.
Although no word was spoken to the crew, they could sense the situation by the sharp commands emanating from the conning tower and the celerity with which the navigating officer and his assistant were working the ballast pumps.
Great beads of perspiration stood out on the forehead of Officer Binns as he stood over the array of levers and gave directions, first to ship ballast in one tank, and then in another, shifting the added weight evenly so as not to disturb the equilibrium of theDeweyand cause her to go hurtling to the bottom, top heavy in either bow or stern.
Nearly two minutes were necessary to get the little undersea craft down far enough to evade the prow of the oncoming destroyer, and even then the conning tower furnished a target that might be crushed by the nose of the enemy ship and precipitate an avalanche of water into the hold—-with disaster for the men assembled at their posts of duty.
"They are right on top of us now," screamed Sammy Smith as he hugged the microphone receivers to his ears.
If the destroyer was going to get the submarine, now was the fatal moment!
TheDeweysuddenly lunged like a great tiger leaping from the limb of a tree upon its prey. Responding to a signal from his commander, Chief Engineer Blaine had suddenly shot into the submarine's engines the full power of the electric storage batteries and hurled theDeweyforward with a great burst of speed. There was a slim chance that the swift-moving German warship might be sidestepped by a quick maneuver, and the crafty McClure was leaving no deep-sea trick unturned.
"Nice place for the Fritzes to swing overboard one of those infernal depth bombs," muttered Bill Witt.
A depth bomb! Jack and Ted knew all about the latest device being employed by the warring nations in their campaigns against submarines. Gigantic grenades, they were, carrying deadly and powerful explosives timed to go off at any desired depth. One of them dropped from the deck of the destroyer as it passed over the spot where theDeweyhad submerged might blow the diminutive ship to atoms.
With reckless abandon big bluff Bill Witt began to sing:
"It's a long way to Tipperary, It's a long way to go. It's a long way—-"
The song was interrupted by a harsh grating sound—-the crashing of steel against steel—-and then theDeweyshuddered from stem to stern as though it had run suddenly against a stone wall.
Hurled from his feet by the fearful impact Jack sprawled on the steel floor of the torpedo room. Ted, standing close by his chum, clutched at one of the reserve torpedoes hanging in the rack in time to prevent himself falling.
For a moment theDeweyappeared to be going down by the stern, with her bow inclined upward at an angle of forty-five degrees. Above all the din and confusion could be heard the roar of a terrific explosion outside. The little submersible was caught in the convulsion of the sea until it seemed her seams would be rent and her crew engulfed.
From the engine room Chief Engineer Blaine and his men retreated amidships declaring that the submarine had been dealt a powerful blow directly aft the conning tower on her starboard beam.
"Any plates leaking?" asked Lieutenant McClure quietly.
"Not that we can notice, sir," replied Blame. "It appears as though the nose of that Prussian scraped along our deck line abaft the conning tower."
At any moment the steel plates were likely to cave in under the strain and the submarine be inundated.
"Stand by ready for the emergency valve!" shouted Lieutenant McClure.
This was the ship's safety contrivance. The Brighton boys had been wonderfully impressed with it shortly after their first introduction to the "innards" of a submarine.
The safety valve could be set for any desired depth; when the vessel dropped to that depth the ballast tanks were automatically opened and every ounce of water expelled. As a result the submarine would shoot to the surface. The older "submarine salts" called the safety the "tripper."
"If they've punctured us we might as well cut loose and take our chances on the surface," declared Lieutenant McClure to the little group of officers standing with him amidships in the control chamber.
Not a man dissented. They were content to abide by the word of their chieftain. It was some relief to know that the nose of the destroyer had not crashed through the skin of the submarine; but, from the concussion astern and Chief Engineer Blaine's report, it was very evident that theDeweyhad been struck a glancing blow. Deep-sea pressure against a weakened plate could have but one inevitable sequel—-the rending of the ship's hull.
"They have gone completely over us," came the announcement from the wireless room.
Hardly had the electrician concluded the report before theDeweywas rocked by another submarine detonation—-the explosion of a second depth bomb. This time it was farther from the hiding vessel; however, the ship was shaken until every electric light blinked in its socket.
"I hope they soon get done with their Fourth of July celebration," remarked Bill Witt by way of a bit of subsea repartee.
"That's the way they blow holes in their schweitzer cheese," venturedMike Mowrey with a chuckle.
It was decided to submerge a little deeper and then leisurely inspect the interior hull aft. An observation with the microphones disclosed the fact that the destroyer was moving out into the North Sea.
"Guess they think they got us that time," suggested Lieutenant McClure to his executive officer.
"Was rather a close call, come to think of it," smiled Cleary.
The latter went aft with Chief Engineer Blaine for the hull inspection and returned in a few moments to say that, so far as could be observed from the interior, she had not been dealt a severe blow. The executive officer ventured the opinion that the keel of the destroyer had brushed along the aft deck, thus accounting for the fact that the submarine had suddenly been tilted downward at the stern.
"We'll not dare submerge too deep," said Lieutenant McClure. "Pressure against our hull increases, you know, at the rate of four and a quarter pounds to the square inch for every ten feet we submerge. It may be our plates were weakened by that collision. We'll go down to one hundred feet and lie there until these ships get out of the way."
The depth dial showed eighty feet. More water, accordingly, was shipped and theDeweyslipped away to the desired depth, when the intake of ballast ceased and the tiny vessel floated alone in the sea. Determined to take no more chances with the Kaiser's navy until he had ascertained the true condition of his own vessel, Lieutenant McClure decided to lie-to here in safety.
When the raiders had departed he would ascend and make a more detailed external inspection of the hull.
It was half-past two. Jean Cartier superintended the distribution of hot coffee and light "chow" and the crew made themselves comfortable in their submarine home.
Half an hour later, when it had been determined by the telephones that the German ships had moved on westward, theDeweybegan again to ascend the depths.
Early dawn was streaking the sky with tints of orange gray when at last the submarine poked its periscopes above the waves. Not a ship was in sight; there was not a trace of the battle cruiser that theDeweyhad sent to her doom during the earlier hours of the night.
"Didn't have a chance, did they?" Ted said to his churn in contemplation of the fate of the German warship.
Jack felt different about it.
"Sure they had a chance," he answered.
"They would have gotten us if we hadn't landed them first."
"Do the other fellow as you know he would do you," Jack philosophized.
As theDeweyemerged again on the surface with her deck and super-structure exposed, the ship's wireless aerials were run up and she prepared to get in touch with the United States fleet. Jack crept into the wireless room that he might better understand what was going on. Lately he had been learning the wireless code and familiarizing himself with the operation of the radio under the kindly instruction of Sammy Smith.
"You never know when knowledge of these things is going to stand you in good stead," remarked Jack when he had applied to Sammy for "a bit in electricity."
Once more the hatches were opened and the crew swarmed out to stretch their limbs and get a breath of fresh air again. Lieutenant McClure hastened to examine the deck of theDeweyto ascertain whether any damage had been done in the collision with the destroyer.
Yes, there was a slight dent—-a broad scar—-running obliquely across the deck plates just aft the conning tower within a few inches of the engine room hatch. The damage, however, appeared to be slight.
"Narrow escape," the lieutenant pondered.
"Zip! zip!" the wireless was sputtering as Sammy Smith flung a code message into space in quest of other members of the allied navies. Several times he shot out the call and then closed his key to await a reply.
Finally it came—-a radio from an American warship far out of sight over the horizon.
"Take this radio to Lieutenant McClure," said Sammy, as he typed it with the wireless receiver still to his ears, and wheeled to hand it to Jack. The latter took the flimsy sheet and bounded up the aft hatch to where his commander stood examining the hull.
"American and English cruisers and destroyers in running fight with German raiding squadron. Give us your position. U.S.S.Salem," the message ran.
At once theDewey'slatitude and longitude were rattled off to the Salem. In reply came another radio from the scout cruiser, giving the position of the raiding fleet and the pursuers, with this direction:
"Close in from your position. German fleet in full retreat headedE.N.E. across North Sea. You may be able to intercept them!"
Without any further ado theDeweygot under way. While the inspection of the hull had been going on the submarine's batteries had been recharged and she was ready again for further diving upon a moment's notice. Lieutenant McClure climbed into the deck steering station—-the bridge of a submarine—-and assumed charge of the electric rudder control, the wheel of a submersible.
Jack and Ted were ordered onto the bridge with their commander and instructed to keep a sharp lookout on the horizon with powerful glasses. The wireless was snapping away exchanging messages with the allied fleet and getting a line on the pursued raiders. The cool fresh air felt invigorating after the night's cramped vigil in the fetid air of the submarine.
When mess call sounded, Jack and Ted, relieved from duty, went below to get some "chow" and snatch an hour or two of rest.
A radiogram was handed Lieutenant McClure while at breakfast giving the position of the U.S.S.Chicago. A little later H.M.S. Congo, a "limey," was spoken. Soon the sub was hearing the chatter of half a dozen American and English warships.
Hastening back to the conning tower, Lieutenant McClure conferred for a few moments with his executive officer and as a result of their calculations the course of theDeweywas altered. Headed due north, it was the aim of the submarine officers to intercept the retreating column of German raiders whom they knew now to be in full retreat, hotly pursued by the allied squadron.
Not half an hour had elapsed when the lookout reported a blur on the horizon that, despite the mist of early morning, was easily discernible as the smoke of several vessels under forced draft. Very soon the head of the column loomed over the horizon—-a German cruiser in the lead—-followed closely by a destroyer that was belching forth dense black smoke from its funnels.
"They are making for home under a smoke screen from their destroyers, and I'll bet some of our ships are not very far away either," was Lieutenant McClure's observation as he stood surveying the field of action through his glass.
"Yes, and that destroyer there is probably the chap who nearly ran us down last night," added Executive Officer Cleary.
Lieutenant McClure nodded assent and then turned toward Jack, who had been watching the approaching Germans from a position on deck just aft the conning tower.
TheDewey'scommander motioned the young seaman to climb into the steering station.
"I want you to stand right by and act as my aide," said McClure."That goes, not only now, but until further orders. You and Mr.Wainwright will relieve each other as my aides. Go below and tellChief Engineer Blaine we are about to close in on the Huns and wantall the speed possible during the next hour or so."
Jack saluted and lowered away into the conning tower hatch. As he climbed down into the hull he heard the sound of heavy cannonading across the water. It was certain now that a running fight was in progress and that behind the veil of the black German destroyer smoke were allied warships.
The retreating column was well off the port bow and racing eastward toward the shelter of the big guns at Heligoland. Coming up out of the south the American submarine had run at right angles into the line of the Hun retreat. TheDeweyheld a strategic position. She viewed the approaching squadron as though looking down the hypotenuse of the angle. The Germans were speeding along the base. TheDeweyhad but to slip down the perpendicular to intercept the panicky Prussians.
And that was just what Lieutenant McClure proposed doing. All hands were ordered below and the hatches sealed. Running on the surface, the oil engines were put to their best endeavor and theDeweycleft the whitecaps at her best speed.
"Go forward, Mr. Hammond, and inquire of Chief Gunner Mowrey how many torpedoes we have aboard," ordered Lieutenant McClure.
Jack hurried away and returned in a few minutes to report that all four tubes were loaded and two auxiliary Whiteheads in the racks. TheDewey'storpedo range was two miles, but her commander preferred to be within less than six hundred yards for a sure shot.
McClure could now see the leader of the German squadron—-a powerful battle cruiser—-crowding on all speed. His guns astern, powerful fourteen-inch pieces in twin turrets, were in action, firing huge salvos at his pursuers. The destroyer rode far to starboard of the cruiser, emitting a steady stream of smoke designed to blind the eyes of the pursuers.
Jockeying into position after another twenty minutes' run, theDewey'scommander decided to let loose with a torpedo. The cruiser had pulled up now until it was nearly dead ahead of the American submersible. The destroyer was dancing along several hundreds yards in the rear of the cruiser.
So intent were the Germans on keeping away from the pursuing warships that they had not noticed the sly little submarine that had slipped up out of the south!
Jack had now an opportunity to witness the actual firing of a torpedo at an enemy vessel at close range. Directly in front of theDewey'scommander, just above the electric rudder button, glowed four little light bulbs in bright red—-one for each of the torpedo tubes in the bow bulkhead. When they were lighted thus it indicated that every chamber was loaded. As soon as a torpedo was discharged the bulb corresponding with the empty tube faded out. Lieutenant McClure had but to touch the electric contact under each bulb to send one of the death-dealing torpedoes on its way. This Jack was to see in a moment.
Crouching with his eyes to the periscope until the racing German cruiser drew up to the desired fret on the measured glass McClure clutched the lower port toggle and released a torpedo. Again the jarring motion that indicated the discharge of the missile and the swirl of the compressed air forward. Through the eye of the forward periscope the commander of theDeweyfollowed the course of the torpedo as it skimmed away from his bow.
"There she goes!" exclaimed Executive Officer Cleary as the mirror reflected the frothing wake of the giant Whitehead.
For a moment or so there was a breathless silence in the conning tower of the Yankee sub as the two officers followed their shot. Only for a moment however, for Commander McClure, knowing full well the German destroyer would sight the speeding torpedo and immediately turn its fire on the Yankee's periscopes, gave orders to submerge. But as theDeweylowered away he gazed ahead once more. The spectacle that greeted him made the blood leap fast in his veins.
"It's a hit!" he yelled in sheer delight.
So it proved. Officer Cleary, still straining at the reserve periscope, beheld the same picture. The torpedo had shot across the bow of the destroyer and leaped forward to finally bury its steel nose in the great gray side of the cruiser.
"Almost directly amidships," called out "Little Mack."
And then, as theDeweyplunged beneath the waves, Lieutenant McClure explained eagerly how he had beheld the explosion of the torpedo just aft the main forward battery turret directly on the line of the forward smoke funnel.
"Giving them a dose of their own medicine," ejaculated Cleary as his commander turned laughingly from the periscope.
"This will settle a few scores for the Lusitania, to say nothing of the many more ships with defenseless men and women that have been sunk since the beginning of the war," added McClure seriously. Then turning to Jack Hammond he added: "I guess you are the good-luck chap. We got both those Boche boats since I called you into the turret as my aide. Don't forget, you are to stay right here permanently."
Jack saluted mechanically, but his heart beat high and he could scarce repress an exclamation of delight.
At a depth of sixty feet theDewey'sengines were slowed down and she floated gracefully out of range of the German destroyer. After traveling ahead for half a mile the submersible was stopped again and began slowly to ascend.
As the eye of the periscope projected again out of the sea LieutenantMcClure hastened to get a glimpse of his surroundings.
There, off the port bow, lay the crippled German cruiser—-the same vessel that had been hit by theDewey'storpedo. She was listing badly from the effect of the American submarine's unexpected sting and had turned far over on her side. A British destroyer was standing by rescuing members of the Teuton crew as they flung themselves into the water from their overturning craft.
Far off theDewey'sstarboard bow could be seen a moving column of warships—-the remnants of the German raiding fleet in the van, followed by the English and American patrol vessels.
"Useless for us to follow them," declared McClure, as he took in the situation. "Might as well stand by this stricken Hun cruiser and pick up some of her floating crew."
"There's a lot of them in the water," said Cleary, as he swung the other periscope to scan the open sea well to the sinking cruiser's stern.
In a few minutes theDeweyascended and made herself known to theBritish "limey." Over the decks of the latter clambered several scoreGerman seamen who had been fished from a watery grave.
A stiff wind had come up out of the southeast and was kicking the sea into rollers with whitecaps. However, the men of theDewey, armed with life preservers, steadied themselves on the turtle-back deck of their craft, and started the hunt for swimming Germans.
Ted had joined Jack forward, carrying a coil of rope, and they were scanning the sea, when their attention was diverted by the gesticulations of Bill Witt standing well forward. He was pointing off to port.
"Look—-a floating mine!" he shouted. Almost at the same moment Jack spied another mine closer up off the starboard quarter.
In a mine field! The retreating German warships had strewn the sea with the deadly implements of naval warfare, and theDeweyhad come up almost on top of a number of the unanchored explosives!
"If one of them pill boxes bumps us on the water line it's all day with your Uncle Sam's U-boatDewey," vouchsafed Bill Witt as he stood surveying the mine field into which they had stumbled.
In response to the warning from the lookout forward, Lieutenant McClure had stopped the submarine and was taking account of the dangers that beset his ship. The sea was running high and it was hard to discern the mines except when they were carried up on the swell of the waves.
Swept along thus with the rise and fall of water, one of the floating missiles seemed now bearing down upon theDewey'sport bow. Lieutenant McClure saw it just as a huge wave picked up the whirling bomb and carried it closer up toward the submarine.
"All hands below; ready to submerge!" he called out sharply, at the same time directing Executive Officer Cleary to get theDeweyunder way.
"Stay here with me a moment," continued McClure, addressing Jack. They were standing alone on the forward deck.
Another wave brought the mine dangerously close.
"You armed?" called out Lieutenant McClure.
"Yes, sir," replied Jack, as he drew his heavy navy automatic.
"Shoot at that mine, boy," commanded the officer. At the same time the young lieutenant drew his own weapon and began blazing away. He hoped thus to explode the deadly thing before it was hurled against theDewey.
Jack followed suit. The target, however, was so buffeted about by the waves that it was next to impossible to sight on it. The only thing to do was to fire at random, hoping against hope that a lucky shot would result in the detonation of the mine.
"It's no use," shouted McClure above the crack of the firearms and the roar of the sea.
Their shots were rattling harmlessly off the metallic sides of the mine.
By now Cleary had swung theDeweyaround until she was pointed almost directly at the nearest mine, it being slightly off the port quarter. The engines had been reversed and started, and the submarine was drawing away.
"We ought to clear this one and then be able to dive and get out of here," said McClure.
But as he spoke a huge wave lifted the mine again and flung it full in the path of the submarine. As though drawn by some mysterious magnet the floating explosive seemed following theDeweyat every turn—-an unrelenting nemesis bent on the destruction of the American vessel.
"Quick, Jack; grab that wireless upright forward!" commanded the young lieutenant.
With alacrity Jack flung himself upon the steel aerial and wrenched it loose. It was a long tubing very much like an ordinary length of gas pipe set up usually forward as one of the wireless supports, and folding down into the deck plates when theDeweywas stripped for undersea navigation.
"I am going to take a chance on exploding that one mine that seems to be our hoodoo," shouted Lieutenant McClure.
Jack waited anxiously to see just what his lieutenant was doing. Taking the wireless upright in hand after the manner of a track athlete throwing the javelin, the young commander drew it well back and then launched it full upon the mine floating not more than fifteen or twenty feet from theDewey.
"Hit it!" exclaimed McClure as the improvised battering ram left his strong right arm.
It did, and with the desired result. The impact of the long steel tubing directly upon the shell of the mine was sufficient to explode the deadly thing. A terrific detonation rent the air and immediately a column of water was hurled high, towering over theDeweylike a geyser, and then engulfing the little submarine. Jack and his commander were swept off their feet in the deluge. As though some unseen hand had suddenly clutched them with a grip of steel the pair were flung from the deck of their craft into the seething foam.
It seemed an endless eternity to Jack as he was carried down into the depths. The roar of a million cataracts throbbed in his brain and before his mind flashed the panorama of his life. Home—-Winchester—-Brighton—-all the old chums and the "profs!"
Death seemed so near to the youth as ho felt his strength giving way. His senses reeled. In his ears pealed the medley of a thousand bells. In this horrible abyss he knew he could not long survive.
Then, just when it seemed life was gone, his head shot up out of the water and he found himself swimming free and breathing normally again. Above, the same old blue sky. Turning over on his back and paddling thus until he floated, the boy remembered gain the submersible and the fearful mine explosion that had cast him into the sea.
He looked for theDeweyand in a moment beheld it still riding the waves. Yes, the old sub had survived the mine explosion, or at least, was still afloat, if damaged.
But what about Lieutenant McClure? Now Jack recalled his gallant commander and how he, too, had been cast from the deck in the deluge. Was "Little Mack" still alive?
TheDeweywas slowly picking her way among the other mines. Jack shouted to her, but getting no response he started to swim with vigorous strokes. He had gone but a few yards when an object appeared on the crest of the water directly in front of him. It took only a glance to convince him that it was the form of Lieutenant McClure. With a supreme effort Jack drove himself forward with mighty strokes toward the inert form of his commander.
Glancing up for a moment, what was the delight of the youth battling with death to see theDeweybearing down upon him!
Some one had seen him and they were coming to his rescue.
The sight renewed his strength. After what seemed a long while Jack was able to clutch the collar of his chief officer. "Little Mack" was unconscious.
By degrees Jack succeeded in turning over the limp form until it floated face upward. Locking his left arm securely around the neck of the apparently lifeless officer so that the face was held above the surface of the water, and using his strong right arm and legs, Jack began swimming as best he could in the general direction of the submarine that he knew to be not far away.
The weight of the lieutenant's body dragged heavily upon his left arm. His strength was ebbing away fast. His arm became numb and his senses chaotic.
Instinctively the lad closed his eyes. It seemed he must let loose the burden tugging in his arms and himself slip away into the depths and into that long sweet sleep that seemed just now so alluring, so compelling.
"Catch the rope when I fling it"—-the words were borne into his stifled senses. It sounded like the voice of his good chum.
Was it Ted? Again came the call, seemingly closer at hand. It was Ted, now faintly, now more clearly. The sound of that voice galvanized the youth in the water.
Jack flung out his free limbs in a frenzy of muscular energy. Something loomed up in the blue of the sky near him and he beheld for one instant the periscopes of theDewey.
She was drawing closer to the pair in the water!
On the deck stood a number of the crew disregarding the floating mines that had been engaging their attention. Someone was whirling a rope, aiming to throw it to the pair in the water. Every one seemed to be yelling at the same time.
"Hold on—-we are coming—-don't let go—-catch the rope!" Jack heard the calls from his shipmates.
Out over the water spun a coil of rope—-only to fall short of the desired mark and trail off into the sea many yards from the floating pair. Yes, it was Ted, winding frantically again, and yelling encouragement to his chum.
"Hold 'em!" Ted shouted over and over again, just as the Brighton lads had been wont to yell in unison at their football games when the opposing eleven was smashing its way toward Brighton's goal. Once again the coil was ready; once again it was flung outward from the deck of theDewey. This time it fairly lashed Jack's face. The sting of the hemp seethed to whip new courage into him. Making one last frantic effort he clutched and held the precious rope, just as Ted sprang from the submarine and dived to the rescue.
Jack remembered no more. When he came to he was stretched in his bunk in the hold of theDewey. Ted was bending over him.
"Thank God you are alive, Jack, old chum!" Ted was murmuring, with glad tears brimming from his eyes.
Jack strove to raise himself on one elbow but fell back limply, weak from the terrible struggle through which he had passed.
"How about 'Little Mack'?" he managed finally to ask faintly.
"Alive but yet unconscious," replied Ted, "They have gotten most of the water out of his lungs and are using the pulmotor."
Jack closed his eyes again and murmured a prayer of thanks for his safe deliverance and for the life of his lieutenant.
"Was theDeweydamaged by the mine explosion?" he asked.
Ted replied that so far as could be determined no serious damage had been inflicted, although Officer Cleary had expressed some apprehension as to the condition of the port seams forward on the under side of the hull. The examination was still in progress.
For an hour Jack rested quietly in his bunk. TheDeweyhad submerged after taking aboard the half-drowned commander and his rescuer, and at a safe depth gotten safely out of the zone of danger. Now she had come to the surface again for further examination of her hull.
Jack and Ted were conversing in low tones, when Bill Witt stumbled along the passageway leading into the men's quarters and stopped beside Jack. His face was stern.
"What's the matter, Bill—-you seasick?" queried Ted.
"Wish that's all it was," muttered Bill.
"Tell us, what's up?" pressed Ted.
"Isn't very cheery news for a fellow knocked out like Jack after making such a plucky fight for his life and saving his lieutenant," answered Bill with a shrug of his broad shoulders.
Jack smiled.
"If I survived that, I guess I can hear what's troubling you," was his reply.
"Well, it's bad news, boys—-mighty bad," went on Bill. "ChiefEngineer Blaine reports a leak in the main oil reservoir to starboard.That mine explosion loosened up the seams and the fuel stuff is slowlybut steadily streaming into the deep blue sea!"
Ted ran aft to the engine room to get a fuller report on the new danger that confronted theDewey. There he found that what Bill Witt had said was only too true. Either portions of the flying steel from the exploded mine had punctured the skin of the submarine, or else the plates had been loosened by the detonation. The oil was leaking away at an alarming rate and there was no way here in the open sea to get at the leak. TheDeweywould have to go into drydock before the repairs could be made.
"But we can navigate with our batteries, can't we?" Ted inquired of Sammy Smith, who had come out of the wireless room to better acquaint himself with theDewey'snewest tale of woe.
Sammy was not at all comforting.
"I understand the batteries, are pretty well exhausted," he said. "They were just going to recharge when we ran into that mine. Blaine says we have only enough juice to last us two hours, moderate running."
He paused for a moment as Ted grasped the significance of the situation.
"Furthermore," Sammy continued, "we cannot dive to any considerable depth."
"With that leak in the reservoir plates Cleary and Blame say it would be foolhardy to go down very far for fear theDeweywould spread wide open and we would be flooded."
It was disquieting news, and Ted hurried forward to talk it over with Jack. As he passed the control station he saw Cleary and Binns in animated conference with the chief engineer. He surmised they were debating the best course under the circumstances.
In the bunk room Ted found Jack had revived considerably under the influence of hot bouillon and strong coffee provided by Jean Cartier, and a change of clothing with a stiff rub-down that had done wonders for him.
"Monsieur is a brave man; he wins the American Croix de Guerre for saving the life of his commander so bravely," Jean was saying as Ted reappeared upon the scene.
Jack was trying hard to be modest.
"I'm feeling fine again, chum," was his rejoinder in response to Ted's query. "Come along. I'm going to look in on 'Little Mack.'" And grabbing Ted's arm he walked off with him to the lieutenant's quarters.
They found McClure now conscious, but very faint from his ordeal. It was certain that he could not assume command of theDeweyfor some time.
The boys clambered on deck to unlimber a bit. Executive Officer Cleary was in charge. In the commotion attendant upon the collision with the mine and the rescue of the submarine commander the disabled German cruiser had been forgotten. There was now no trace of the doomed ship nor of the English "limey" that had been standing by.
"What do you suppose we will do now?" asked Ted.
"Reckon we'll have to drift around awhile and wait for somebody to come along and give us a lift," said Jack hopefully.
Night came on, but there was no response to the wireless call of theDewey. Once a "limey" was spoken, but signaled in return that she was speeding to the assistance of a Scandinavian liner that had reported being under the shell fire of a German U-boat.
Jack was ordered to turn in right after evening "chow" despite his insistence that he was perfectly recovered from his dip in the sea. Ted was to report to the conning tower at four bells for duty on watch.
All night long theDeweytossed in a rough sea. At the appointed hour Ted took up his station as lookout in the conning tower. He had instructions to maintain a sharp watch for enemy ships and to keep Acting Commander Cleary informed on all wireless registrations. The hours passed slowly.
Presently a storm rolled up out of the North Sea. Forked lightning and the distant rumble of thunder heralded its advance. The breeze increased to a gale before long and the sea became rough and angry.
Awakened by the tossing of the little craft and the ominous thunder, Jack appeared in the conning tower. Saluting the ship's executive officer, he declared he was feeling quite recovered from his strenuous dip in the sea of the previous day and quite ready for any service. Jack, accordingly, was posted at the reserve periscope. Ted was at the observation ports in the tower and Officer Cleary at the other periscope.
As the storm increased in fury theDeweywas buffeted about like an egg shell.
Ted was nursing a severe bump on the head, having been dashed by the rocking of the boat against one of the steel girders. Hanging on to supports, the crew of theDeweywere having a hard time saving life and limb as they were tossed to and fro by the fury of the storm.
When at last dawn broke over the troubled waters the gale began to subside. Even then it was impossible to lift the hatches and go on deck because of the rough sea. Waves mountain high were rolling over the submarine, and to open the conning tower was to invite certain disaster. There was nothing to do but wait.
Toward six o'clock Ted made out a long rakish-looking craft that had come up out of the southwest. When it was reported to Officer Cleary and he had looked critically at the vessel for some time he declared finally that it was a destroyer, but yet too far off to hazard any guess as to its nationality.
He decided to submerge slightly and watch the craft for a while and, if it proved to be a German warship, to submerge entirely and take chances on the leaky fuel reservoirs. TheDeweysank at his direction until the conning tower was under water.
"It looks like a French vessel," declared the acting commander to Jack a few minutes later as the warship came nearer.
He studied the approaching ship for a few minutes. "We will raise the lid of the conning tower and unfurl the Stars and Stripes from the periscope pole," he said finally.
"If it is a French destroyer we will soon find out; if it proves to be a German vessel let's hope we will have time to submerge and give him a torpedo. Will you take the flag aloft, Mr. Wainwright?" asked theDewey'sofficer.
Saluting, Ted took the proffered flag and declared he was ready to start forthwith.
Making a slip knot of the line, he motioned for the hatch to be lifted and raised himself out of the turret as the lid swung upward.
The waves were dashing against the projection of steel and lashed their salty spray over the lad as he wrapped his legs about the slippery pole and began to climb. It was difficult work as the vessel lurched in the turbulent sea, but Ted persevered and succeeded in throwing the noose over the end of the pole above the eye of the periscope. Sliding deftly back again, unfurling the flag as he came, he was soon safe again in the conning tower.
Maneuvering about for a few minutes in a frantic effort to attract the attention of the unknown ship, theDeweywas finally rewarded by the boom of a gun that was followed almost immediately by the breaking out of the tricolor of France.
"Vive la France!" shouted the excited group in the conning tower of theDewey. The cry spread throughout the hold and there was great rejoicing among the badly battered seasick prisoners within the stranded submarine.
Still on guard against trickery, the destroyer approached warily with all guns trained on theDewey. Jean Cartier was called into the conning tower and as the destroyer drew within range poured a volley of joyous French expletives into the megaphone that had been thrust into his hand. In short order the submarine had completely established her identity and acquainted the commander of the destroyer with the condition of affairs aboard theDewey.
The French vessel proved to be the La Roque, and her commander gladly consented to tow the disabled American vessel into an English port. Commander McClure was made as comfortable as possible and the voyage across the North Sea begun.
The disabled submarine weathered the trip very well and was delivered safely at an English base by the La Roque after an uneventful voyage.
Granted a shore furlough, Jack and Ted jumped a train and went up to London for their first visit in the famous city. For several days they took in the sights of the great metropolis, seeing, among other things, a wonderful reception accorded American troops from the States marching in review before King George on their way to the front, visiting Westminster Abbey and other notable places, looking in on the House of Commons for several hours and visiting the American embassy.
Letters awaited them from Brighton and they read with interest of the enlistment of more of their chums in the various branches of their country's service. Not the least important of their surprises was a great box from home filled with warm clothing, cakes, candies, and "eats" aplenty.
When they reported back again at their ship they found that theDewey, slightly damaged, had been put into drydock and repairs were going steadily ahead. To their great joy they learned that Lieutenant McClure had not been injured seriously and was convalescing in a nearby hospital. They visited "Little Mack," who by now had heard the whole story of his rescue. Tears dimmed the eyes of the little commander as he expressed his thanks to Jack and Ted for their plucky part in hauling him back to safety after the fateful mine explosion.
By the time the repairs to theDeweyhad been completed LieutenantMcClure was able to assume command of his gallant little ship.
Soon came orders for theDeweyto proceed to sea again. This time the submarine was to act jointly with a convoy protecting the passage of troopships across the English Channel to Calais, and thence into action off Zeebrugge against the German destroyers making that port their rendezvous.
On a wonderful September evening, with a crisp autumnal air making every fellow feel like a young kitten, theDeweyagain glided away from her anchorage in the harbor of Chatham, one of the important English naval bases, and fell into her position in the convoy of ships spread out as an escort for a trio of troopships. They were crowded with thousands of young chaps, the majority of them Americans and Canadians, on their way to join the armies "somewhere in France."
Bronzed and sturdy as a result of their summer's training in home waters and their activities aboard the submarine in the North Sea, Jack and Ted stood out on the deck of their craft more eager than ever to get back into active service again, notwithstanding the rigors of the service in which they had enlisted.
"Little Mack," now completely recovered from his injuries, was in command again and smiling good naturedly at "his boys" as they stood grouped about on the deck of theDewey.
They were thrilled with the anticipation of marvelous new exploits in which they were likely to participate, now that the United States had sent a naval commission to cooperate with the London admiralty and the French naval experts in what was expected to be a campaign to carry the war by naval tactics right home to Germany.
"Ain't no use in expecting that German navy to come out in the open and fight to a finish," commented Bill Witt, as the conversation turned on the likelihood of a big battle between the German high seas fleet and the combined fleets of the United States, Great Britain, and France. "Those fellows would sooner lay back safe in the Kiel Canal; they know full well we'd make short work of them if they ever came outside."
"Ten to one your Uncle Sam don't wait for them to come outside," put in Jack earnestly. "Now that they have all got together and figured out what to do as a result of the sessions of that joint naval board in London, we're likely to be sent right in after them."
Jack's eyes glowed as he thought of the daring feats possible under such a naval policy.
"You can bet theDeweywill be in on any such stunts as that," pursued Ted. "And why shouldn't we go right after them? The United States Navy never did lie back and wait for the enemy to come out."
Passing along, the deck to the conning tower, Lieutenant McClure stopped to eye the little group.
"You fellows just aching for a scrap again," he said finally. "Well, there's no telling when we might run right into one to-night. Those German destroyers are likely to make a sortie from Ostend. Besides, you never can tell when some of the Kaiser's air navy is likely to be popping around."
As he spoke "Little Mack" scanned the sky to the east. Turning to the boys, he remarked laughingly: "You three pretty good chums, aren't you?" gazing along the line, from Jack to Ted and then to Bill Witt.
"Just like three peas in a pod," declared Bill Witt. "These two Brighton boys took me right in—-and me a rank outsider! I'm sure lucky to have struck two such good friends."
Everybody laughed at Bill's frank avowal of friendship and Jack responded with a crack on the back that made Bill wince.
"Guess we know good goods when we meet it," he added.
"Little Mack" had been taking it all in with approval.
"That's right, boys," he smiled. "You've got the right spirit. That's the kind of democracy we stand for, and that's why the good old U.S. Navy is the best in the world—-fellows all pulling together. I'm mighty proud of all my boys," continued the little lieutenant. "You've made a great record so far, and I only hope you keep up the good work. Stick together like pals—-and be proud of that flag of ours."
With a wave of the hand the ship's commander passed along the deck and into the conning tower.
"There's an ace for you," said Jack, with an admiring glance at the retreating figure.
"Ace! I should say so," sputtered Bill. "Why, if 'Little Mack' told me to go get von Tirpitz I'd go right after him."
Soon it was dusk and the little fleet had gotten out of sight of land into the North Sea. Stealing away like shadows into the gloom, the fleet of transports trailed along in battle formation ready to turn back any attack. The crew of theDeweyhad retreated into the hold and the vessel was riding awash, with Commander McClure at the wheel, observing the deployment of the fleet from the conning tower.
Down in the torpedo room, bottled up under water where no sound could escape to attract the attention of the outside world, Mike Mowrey had tuned up his old banjo and the boys were having an old-fashioned songfest.
"For it's always fair weather," came the jolly strains that sounded up in the conning tower above the whirr of the ship's engines.
"Everybody's happy to get out again," laughed Executive Officer Cleary to his chief, as he swung the periscope to port for a full sweep of the sea.
So far there had been no incident to mar the safe convoy of the troopships. Plowing straight ahead, the destroyers that flitted here and there through the filmy darkness danced about the transports, alert to challenge any foe. Another hour and the short trip to the French port where the troops were to embark would be concluded and theDeweyfree to dash off to her post along the Belgian coast, where Commander McClure had been ordered on guard against the German destroyers that lately had been showing a desire to engage in brushes with the allied ships.
"Guess we are not going to be molested to-night," said "Little Mack" as he looked at his wrist watch.
"Doesn't seem like it," rejoined Cleary.
But they had reckoned without the two-mile-a-minute birdmen that circle the heavens like giant eagles and swoop down on their prey from high altitudes to send forth their flaming bombs and death-dealing hand grenades. A lookout on one of the destroyers detected at this moment an aerial fleet looming out of the north like spectral dots in the dim light of the skies. From the masthead of the vessel glowed instantly the light that had been agreed upon as a danger signal.
"Airplanes!" shouted theDewey'scommander, as he strained his eyes through the portholes of the conning tower in a vain effort to search the skies. In another moment, after giving the "wheel" over to his flag officer, the lieutenant had thrown open the conning tower and was gazing into the heavens with his binoculars.
"Yes, there they come," he announced, after a short pause. "Two—-three—-four; there's a half dozen or more of them," he continued after a careful survey of the sky.
The singing down in the hold abated when the reported approach of the air fleet became known throughout the ship.
"What's up?" queried Ted, as he joined his chum outside the wireless room.
"The Kaiser's imperial flying corps is out for a little evening exercise," answered Jack, as he hurried along to keep within call of his commander.
For the men in theDeweythere was nothing to do but take the reports from the conning tower as to what was going on outside the submarine. Their impatience, however, was short-lived, for there came very quickly an order to man the anti-aircraft guns on deck. The hatches fore and aft were thrown open and the gun crews scrambled on deck.
"Not afraid of 'em, are we?" chuckled Ted, as he followed Bill Witt up the ladder.
"Chances are they can't see us in the twilight," answered Bill. "And this is a real chance for us to give the 'twins' a little tuning up."
From the conning tower came the order to unlimber the guns, load and stand by.
"Wait until they come within range, and then fire away!" directed theDewey'scommander.
From a height of five thousand feet the leader of the "air cavalry" suddenly turned the nose of his craft downward, and came volplaning toward the sea at a dizzy pace. Following suit, the remaining units of the attacking squadron dived to get within better range.
"Now, boys!" shouted Lieutenant McClure.
Time-fuse shells had been inserted in the "Twins," the breeches closed and the muzzles elevated to point at the fast-flying airships. At the aft gun Ted gripped the trigger ready to fire, while Mike Mowrey jammed his good right eye into the telescopic sight to make sure of his aim.
"Fire!" he yelled, and Ted, let her go. The shot sped away into the sky while the crew gazed eagerly upward to watch for the explosion. Soon the shell burst with a white puff of smoke.
"Little too far to the right," said the observer.
Now the aft gun spoke. From every vessel of the protecting fleet came answering shots as they belched their fury at the armada of the air. The dull gray of the night sky was lighted at intervals by the bursting of shells as the German air fleet soared forward over the allied naval fleet. Observers were hurling bombs from above and they were splashing into the sea on every side. One of them striking the hull of theDeweywould blow the ship into atoms!
"Keep it up, boys! Make every shot count!" sang out Commander McClure.
Mike Mowrey was growling because he was unable to make a hit. "Let's get one of 'em—-just one of 'em!" he bellowed in rage.
One of the winged fleet was circling almost overhead at this moment and seemed tantalizing near. With a twist of the wheel Mowrey swung the muzzle of his gun up a couple of inches and gave the signal again to fire. Following the shot for a moment the frenzied gunner was elated to note that the machine just above sagged suddenly to one side. Like a bird with a broken pinion it swerved drunkenly in its course and began slowly to come down. Sustaining wires had been cut by the shell fire from theDeweyand the airplane was out of commission.
"Guess that fellow is done for," said Mowrey.
It was soon evident that the machine was badly crippled, for it came on downward like a feather floating in the still air. Only a few minutes elapsed until it had settled on the water.
"Hydro-aeroplane," announced Commander McClure as he stood in the conning tower observing the wounded airship. The other planes were engaged over the remainder of the allied fleet and theDeweywas free to take care of the craft in front of it.
There was now a chance that the American submarine might move alongside and take prisoner the German birdmen in the damaged machine. The ship's course was altered toward the floating plane and theDeweycrept up on her foe.
"Train your forward gun right on that fellow; he is apt to shoot unless both pilot and observer are injured," cautioned McClure.
And that was just what happened, for the words had hardly escaped the lips of the Yankee skipper before a gun rang out from under the canvas wings of the airplane and a shell came whizzing over theDewey.
"There's another machine almost directly overhead," bawled Mowrey, as he spied a second flying craft near at hand.
Having witnessed the fall of the crippled airship, another member of the attacking squadron had put back to the rescue. As it soared now within range of the American submarine a bomb came splashing into the water not two hundred feet away.
Commander McClure began to figure that it was getting too dangerous longer to risk his thin-skinned vessel before the rain of the lyddite bombs, and accordingly gave orders to submerge. Jamming their guns back into their deck casings, the crews melted away through the hatches into the hold of theDewey. Ballast poured in through the valves and the ship began to submerge.
And then, just as the submarine began settling in the water, a shell came whizzing over the water from the wounded airplane and burst directly over the conning tower. There was a crash of rending steel and then a great clatter on the forward deck of the submarine that reechoed through the interior with an ominous sound.
"Great Scott!" ejaculated McClure. "They've torn away both our periscopes!"
Completely blinded by the fire from the wounded German birdman, theDeweynow had but one alternative. The approach of other air raiders made it necessary for the submarine to dive away into the depths to safety. To linger longer on the surface was but to court the continued fire of the birdmen overhead who apparently were incensed over the wounding of their companion craft and out for revenge.
Reluctantly, but yielding to his better judgment, McClure gave orders to submerge. At the same time the damaged periscopes were cut off in the conning tower to prevent an inflow of water when the ship dived.
"Too bad to quit right now; but it would be folly to stand out under those deadly bombs any longer," he said.
Fortunately, theDeweywas equipped with reserve periscope tubes, and Lieutenant McClure's plan now was to wait until the convenient darkness of night had mantled the ocean and then ascend to repair at leisure the damaged "eyes."
"Might as well make ourselves comfortable here awhile under the water," suggested "Little Mack."
Jean Cartier was instructed to extend himself for the evening meal and to draw on the ship's larder for an "extra fine dinner." It being the first night of theDewey'srenewed cruise the ship's galley was well stocked with fresh foods. Chops, baked potatoes, hot tea and rice pudding represented the menu selected by Jean, and soon the odor of the savory food had every mother's son smacking his lips in anticipation of a luxurious "chow" to top off the exciting events of the evening.
Seventy feet below the surface of the water, immune from hostile attacks, officers and crew sat down to the repast as safe and secure as though in a banquet hail on shore. Wit and laughter accompanied the courses, and, as the submarine dinner was concluded, Bill Witt's banjo was produced. Soon the ship resounded to the "plink-plunk-plink" of the instrument and the gay songs of the jolly submarine sailors.
"If they could only see us now at Brighton!" laughed Ted, as he surveyed the scene admiringly.
Jack grew reminiscent.
"Remember that last dinner at Brighton?" he asked. "Fellows all wishing us good luck and cheering for us out on the campus? And good old 'prexie' declaring he expected to hear great things of his boys in the war? And all of them standing on the dormitory steps singing 'Fair Brighton' as we headed for the depot?"
Ted remembered it all now only too plainly. Good old Brighton! Back there now under the oaks on the campus, or up in the dormitories, the boys were assembled again for the fall term.
But this was not the time for backward glances. Grim work lay ahead of them.
An hour later preparations were made to ascend and repair the damaged periscopes. In response to a query from the ship's commander, Sammy Smith said he could find no trace of any nearby or approaching vessels, although he had given the submarine telephone its best test.
Gradually theDeweycame to the surface as the ballast tanks were emptied. The hatch was thrown open and theDewey'scommander raised himself to get a line on his surroundings.
A dense fog had commenced to settle over the water, blotting out the stars and making a mist that hung over the sea like a great gray blanket.
"Could not be better for our purposes had it been made to order," smiled McClure, as he gave orders for the repair crew to haul out the reserve periscopes and get busy.
It was impossible to see more than a hundred yards from the sides of theDeweyin any direction, and there appeared nothing but the rolling swell of the ocean. Nevertheless, overlooking no precaution, McClure gave orders for all lights to be dimmed amidships. In the darkness the crew went to work to substitute the new "eyes" of the ship for the damaged tubes, climbing out on the superstructure and working energetically.
Just as the forward periscope was being lowered into position and secured, Commander McClure, supervising the work, was startled by a voice out of the fog, a stentorian challenge through a megaphone, that seemed almost on top of the submarine.
"What ship is that?" came the call in German.
For a moment it seemed that some one on the deck of the submarine must be playing a prank on his friends. But Bill Witt, who was doing lookout duty forward, declared that the cry was right at hand and apparently from the deck of a warship.
Whispering to the repair crew to go quickly below McClure addressed himself to the unknown voice in his best Deutsch.
"Dis iss das unterseeboot nein und zwanzig."
For a moment there was a deathless silence. Then again the heavy voice to port:
"You speck not the truth. U-boat 29 is in der Kiel Canal. You areEnglish or Yankee. We call on you to surrender!"
McClure's answer was to slam down the lid of the conning tower and ring for full speed in the engine room. Instantly he switched the rudder to starboard as theDewey'spropeller blades began to turn.
"Dive!" yelled the commander to his navigating officer, as he himself slanted the submerging rudders.
Almost at the same moment the German warship's powerful searchlights turned full upon the American submarine. Then came a great spit of fire from a battery aboard the enemy vessel followed by the roar of her guns and a salvo of shots.
"It's no use, boys," said the submarine commander to his officers. "They have us trapped. Unless we surrender here we are going to be blown out of the water in short order. We cannot submerge quick enough to avoid that terrible gunfire."
Again and a shot from the enemy, and this time it struck in the water just in front of the conning tower and flung a great spray that blinded the portholes.
TheDeweywas just starting to submerge. With her diving rudders inclined, the ship was tilted now until her bow pointed downward and her stern reared up out of the water. She was shipping ballast in her tanks rapidly, but the process was necessarily slow and, even with her improved equipment, it must be one and a half to two minutes before the hull could be submerged, let alone the conning tower.
"Hold her right there!" suddenly shouted the young lieutenant to his navigating officer.
The latter was for a moment completely dumbfounded by the order.
"What—-you don't mean—-why—-" he started to say, but instantly withheld his speech at the frowning face of his superior officer.
"Up with that hatch!" theDewey'scommander thundered, as his executive officer stood aghast at the reckless procedure.
The latter hastened, however, to comply with the order.
"Wainwright!" shouted Lieutenant McClure.
Ted jumped into the conning tower beside his commander.
"You have already shown your bravery," began McClure hurriedly. "Here's another test for you. Climb through the conning tower, run forward and dive off the bow. But, first of all, grab a life-belt and strap it to you. Don't ask questions. Have confidence in me. When you get in the water, work your way rapidly around the bow of theDeweyto starboard. Float there in the shadow of our hull. Keep close up. All will be well in a moment."
Obeying orders implicitly, Ted was strapping on the life-preserver.
"Ready?" called McClure.
Ted saluted.
"Right—-go!" shouted the commander of theDewey.