THE PUZZLE OF THE DEEP
"Coxswain!" shouted Dave.
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Send up three blue rockets!"
"Aye, aye, sir."
One after another the rockets ascended, bursting high overhead and
slowly falling.
From Grand Harbor, several miles distant, a rocket ascended and burst,
showing red.
Darrin's signal had been seen and answered. Both fleets now knew that
one of the launches had sighted the submarine craft. The three blue
rockets had been the signal agreed upon in advance. Runkle was at the
gun. Ensign Darrin gave him the range.
"I wish we had a four-inch gun in the bow," Dave muttered wistfully,
"but we'll have to do the best we can with the one-pounder. Ready!
Fire!"
Even before the command to fire had been uttered the craft ahead had
begun to submerge.
As the brisk, snappy report of the little piece sounded, and a faint
puff of smoke left her muzzle, Runkle's head bobbed up to watch the
result of his shot.
"Forward of her turret by about a foot!" Runkle muttered in disgusted
criticism of his own shooting.
A sailor had thrown the breech open, while a second swabbed the bore
through and the first fitted in a fresh shell, closing the breech with
a snap.
Runkle seemed to sight and fire almost in the same instant, and, as
before, straightened up to watch the accuracy of his shot by the
splash of water on the other side of the craft. The launch's
searchlight held a steady glare on the mark.
"Nearer by a few inches, sir," Runkle called over his shoulder while
the men with him swabbed and loaded. Again Runkle fired.
"The shell must have passed aft of the turret by about six inches,"
remarked Darrin, catching through his glass a glimpse of the splash of
water where the little shell struck the waves.
"I'll do better, or drown myself, sir," growled Runkle.
"Quick! She is submerging rapidly," commanded Darrin.
Bang! An instant after the report a smothered exclamation came from
the unhappy gunner. The submarine had safely submerged. Not even her
periscope was above water now.
"If the turret had been four inches nearer the sky you'd have put it
out of commission," declared Ensign Darrin.
"Rotten work," growled Runkle in disgust.
"It's night shooting, my man," Dave answered. "Good work just the
same."
Runkle had an excellent gunnery record, and Darrin did not like to see
that fine fellow fretting when he had done his best. None the less it
was highly important to send that submarine to the bottom and quickly
at that.
"We've got to go by bubbles, now," Darrin declared. "She isn't likely
to show her eye again."
Had he gotten the launch close enough to observe the bubbles it is
possible that the young ensign could have followed the enemy trail.
Twice or thrice Dave believed that he had picked up glimpses of
bubbles with the searchlight, but at last, with a sigh, he gave orders
to shut off speed and drift. Inaction became wellnigh insupportable
after a few moments and Darrin called for slow speed ahead.
"There she is again" he cried. "There's her periscope. The scoundrel
is standing out to sea."
Over the starboard quarter the searchlight signals of two other
launches were observed.
"What's taking place?" came the signaled question from one.
"Fired a few shots at a vanishing turret, but missed," Dave ordered
signaled back. "Enemy standing out to sea. Am following."
"Will follow also," flashed back the answer.
"And one of their gunners will bag the game at the first chance,"
groaned Runkle. "The jinx is sitting tight on my chest to-night!"
"It might be, if there were any such animal as a jinx," laughed
Darrin. "Your missing was just plain bad luck, Runkle. Your shooting
was good."
"The periscope is being pulled inboard, sir," called one of the seamen
who stood by with Runkle.
"I see it. There she goes, under again," Dave answered.
The Navy launch was dashing full speed ahead. But with no clue to
follow, Darrin passed some anxious seconds. Should he follow on the
course he had been taking, or should he shut off speed? In the dark
there was a good chance that the submarine commander, if so minded,
would be able to double and head back for shore.
Land lights were still visible from his position. Dave turned to
estimate their distance.
"About six knots off shore," he concluded, half aloud.
"Sir?" questioned the corporal of marines, thinking the ensign was
addressing him.
"I was just telling myself that we're about six knots off shore."
"Yes, sir," replied the corporal, saluting.
"Listen to me, you men who are near enough to hear. Your understanding
of what is in my mind may help you the better to work with me on this
job. Two launches are keeping with us, over the starboard, and I judge
the nearer one to be about four knots off. Coxswain, use the lantern
signal and ask who commands."
Soon Hardy discovered that, in order to make his signal visible at
that distance, he would have to stand higher. Springing to the forward
deck his signal was instantly understood on the other craft.
Dave, who had jumped up beside him, read the answer:
"Ensign Dalzell."
"I was sure of it," Dave smiled. "Coxswain, order number 2 launch to
come up on parallel course, standing off half-mile to starboard of
us."
"Order understood," was flashed back from Dalzell's launch.
Bit by bit Dan overhauled, at last taking the position indicated.
Darrin's launch was moving at slow speed now, for he did not care to
run out of sight of land, thus leaving the way clear for the submarine
to double on him and put back toward Grand Harbor.
"Why doesn't the fellow take a chance on torpedoing us?" was signaled
from Dalzell's launch.
"He has only three," was Darrin's reply.
That was brief, but Danny Grin understood, as Dave had intended he
should, that the submarine was believed to be equipped with only three
torpedoes. Evidently the enemy still hoped for a chance to sink a
British battleship.
Suddenly he discovered that for which he sought, and in the same
instant a seaman called, as the rays of the searchlight shifted:
"Periscope two points off the port bow, sir."
"Right!" clicked Ensign Darrin.
"May I fire, sir?" begged Runkle, bending over his piece.
"Yes, try it. Pretty long shot, though."
Before Runkle could aim and discharge his piece a swift, red flash
shot from the bow of the number 2 launch commanded by Danny Grin.
Runkle fired a second later, but the periscope still stood as if
mocking the eager gunners.
"I'm glad somebody else missed," growled Runkle, who was becoming
exasperated. He was doing himself injustice, though, for each time he
had fired, his mark, considering the distance, had been small, and the
searchlight was no peer of daylight in aiding a gunner.
Ensign Darrin admitted to himself that he was stumped. He ordered the
course changed, with speed ahead, his purpose being to scan the water
for the bubbled trail left by the underseas craft. But by the time
that he judged himself to be going over the recently observed position
of the submersible the searchlight revealed no bubbles.
The third launch now coming in close, Dave, by signal, ordered Ensign
Sutton of the British forces to go slowly inshore. He too was to watch
for bubbles, as well as to be alert for a re-appearance of the enemy
craft.
The longer the suspense lasted, the more uneasy Darrin became.
"There she is, sir!" called a low but penetrating voice from the
stern watch. "Three points off the stern to port, sir."
So quickly did the helmsman bring the launch about that she heeled and
shipped a volume of water. Darrin, as he leaped upon the forward deck,
ordered the sailor manning the searchlight to shut off.
"Don't turn it on again without orders. I believe I can follow the
pest with my glass if she will only keep her conning tower above
water. Signalman, send my order to the other launches not to use their
searchlights without first asking permission."
By this time Darrin, standing on the forward deck, had the submarine's
turret, or as much of it as showed, in the field of his night-glass.
Not more than a foot of it showed above water, and, even through the
glass, at a distance of nearly half a mile, it would hardly have been
discernible without the aid of the searchlight, had it not been for
the white wake left by the turret in its course through the water.
"May I try a shot now, sir?" begged Runkle, "I'm certain I can hit the
turret this time."
"If you could do it surely, you'd be the best shot in the Navy,"
smiled Darrin. "I'm not going to use the searchlight unless I have to,
and it would be almost impossible to make a hit in the dark without
it. The pest is headed shoreward, and I want to creep up close from
the rear, if possible."
Dissatisfied, Runkle none the less saluted and turned back to his gun.
"Keep a close sight on the sneak," Dave called after him. "When you
hear me call 'Ready!' you will complete your aim and fire without
further orders."
An order transmitted to the man standing by the engine sent the launch
plunging ahead at increased speed.
Of a sudden the pursuit assumed a new aspect. The submarine suddenly
veered around to port, and then headed straight toward the launch.
"Now's our chance!" glowed a seaman, excitedly.
"Yes," retorted another strained voice. "Our chance for death!"
The same thought came into the minds of many on the launch. The
submarine, it seemed, was about to discharge a torpedo at the pursuer.
"Starboard!" commanded Darrin. "Keep her bow to port of us!"
Seaman Jack Runkle strained his ears for the solitary word from Ensign
Darrin that would be so welcome.
"Will he ever give that order?" fumed the impatient sailor at the
breech of the one-pounder.