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 the Dewey was 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 the Dewey were 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.  The Dewey sank 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 the Dewey’s officer.

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.