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 the Dewey cleft 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.  The Dewey’s torpedo 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, the Dewey’s commander 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 the Dewey’s commander, 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 the Dewey followed 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 the Dewey lowered away he gazed ahead once more.  The spectacle that greeted him made the blood leap fast in his veins.