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.

The Dewey was 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!” the Dewey’s commander 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 the Dewey to 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 the Dewey.

CHAPTER XII

YANKEE CAMOUFLAGE

To Ted it seemed as though he were following the mandate of some madman as he emerged from the conning tower and, grasping the periscope pole, steadied himself a moment before leaping down on deck.  But, being a loyal son of Uncle Sam, and realizing that the first requisite of a sailor was to take orders implicitly from his officers, he sprang nimbly on deck, rushed along the inclined steel plane, and as he came splashing into the water that washed over the bow, flung himself into the sea.

“I’ll trust to ’Little Mack’,” he said to himself.

Coming up to the surface he veered off sharp to the Dewey’s starboard and with long strokes pulled himself into the shadow of the partially submerged submarine.  The life-belt held him secure in the water and he floated at ease.

Ted turned his attention toward the Dewey.

There, he saw, his example was being followed by other members of the crew.  As their names were called off by their commander a number of the crew leaped overboard.