“Hurrah!” yelled Jack Benson, leaping to his feet with all the glee and fervor of the enthusiast.  “Hurrah!”

“Hurrah!” bellowed Eph Somers, for the glory of the game had gotten into his blood, too.  Both submarine boys capered up and down on the platform deck.

But Lieutenant Danvers sat with left hand on the conning tower steering wheel, his watch in his right hand.  He was counting the seconds.

“Look out for the signal,” called the naval officer, coolly.  “When I tell you, then look out for what happens over at the scow.  Er—­now!”

They were too far away to hear the impact, but the two submarine boys saw a slight commotion in the waters under the scow’s rail.  Then the dummy torpedo bounded back, rising and floating on the surface—­spent!

Had that torpedo contained the fighting service charge of two hundred pounds of gun-cotton it would have shattered and sunk the biggest, staunchest, proudest battleship afloat.

“It’s uncanny—­isn’t it?” gasped Jack Benson, feeling an odd shudder run over him.

CHAPTER III

STRUCK BY A SUBMERGED FOE

“Yep!” agreed Eph Somers, blaster of day-dreams.  “But say?”

“Well?” demanded Captain Jack.

“At the same time,” muttered Eph, grimly, “I’m glad that scow isn’t a real battleship, with a half a dozen twelve-inch cannon turned on us.”

“Humph!” muttered Jack, dryly, “if that scow were an enemy’s battleship, twelve-inch barkers and all, we’d be twenty feet under the surface, and we’d be out of sight and out of mind.”

“Quite right,” nodded Lieutenant Danvers.  “In a contest of that sort I’d feel fifty times safer here than on the battleship we were after.  Now, Benson, you’ve seen the first part of it.  We have the other dummy to fire.  The real gunner, on a submarine, is the fellow at the wheel.  Do you want to take the wheel, manoeuvre the boat and give the order for the next dummy shot?”

“Do I?” uttered Jack Benson.  “Just!”

Orders were then given to place the other dummy torpedo in the tube, and this done, Jack took his place at the wheel, while Eph Somers and the lieutenant stood outside.  At the naval officer’s direction Jack Benson came up on the other side of the scow, about three hundred yards away, with the nose of the “Hastings” so pointed that the torpedo dummy could be delivered straight amidships.

At just the right moment Captain Jack passed the order to fire.  Then he watched the scow with a strange fascination.  Danvers stood, watch in hand.

“Now!” he shouted.

Barely two seconds later the second dummy torpedo rose, a few yards back from the side of the scow.

“That torpedo struck, full and fair,” nodded Lieutenant Danvers, turning toward the conning tower.  “Mr. Benson, if you always hit as full and well, you’ll be an expert torpedoist.”