Five hundred yards away came the speeding warship.  It was close enough now for the American officers to make out her outlines in detail and to satisfy themselves that this was another member of the raiding party out of the great German naval base in back of Heligoland.

“All right, here goes,” shouted the doughty Yankee skipper a moment later as the German cruiser drew up until her bow edged into the circle that McClure had marked off on the periscope as the exact spot on which to aim his fire.

Swish! went the torpedo as it shot from the bow of the Dewey and straightened out in the water on its foamy trail, cutting through the sea like a huge swordfish.

It took only a moment—–­an interval of time during which the torpedo from the American submarine and the German cruiser seemed irresistibly drawn toward each other.  And then came the crash—–­the impact of the torpedo’s war-nose against the steel side of the cruiser, the detonation of the powerful explosive, the rending of the German hull.

And then, loud enough for his crew forward to hear his words, McClure called out: 

“A perfect hit, boys; torpedo landed plumb in the engine room of a big German cruiser.”

A great cheer resounded through the hull of the American undersea craft as the good news was borne to the torpedo crew forward and to the engine room aft.

Keeping his eyes to the periscope, McClure beheld the most spectacular picture that had yet been glimpsed through the eye of the American submarine.  The torpedo had struck squarely abaft the ship’s magazine and wrecked her completely.  The night was painted a lurid glow as a titanic explosion shook the sea and a mass of yellow flame completely enveloped the doomed warship from stem to stern.

“Look, she is going down by the stern,” called out Officer Cleary as he took one last squint at the Dewey’s quarry just before the stricken warship slipped away into the depths.

The jubilation of the crew knew no bounds.  The men were wild with joy over their success.  Jack and Chief Gunner Mowrey were “mitting” each other like a prize fighter and his manager after a big fight, while Ted and Bill Witt were clawing each other like a pair of wild men.

Through the main periscope Commander McClure was noting the death struggle of the German cruiser, when Executive Officer Cleary, swinging the reserve periscope around to scan the horizon aft the Dewey, suddenly called out sharply: 

“Submerge, quick!  Right here abaft our conning tower to starboard comes a destroyer.  She is aimed directly at us and almost on top of us.  Hurry, or we are going to be run down!”

CHAPTER VI

RAMMED BY A DESTROYER

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 the Dewey was sending home the shot that laid low the German cruiser.