THE FIRST VICTIM.
As the steamship Glasgow drew nearer, the signs of activity among the various units of the motorboat fleet became more acute. The little craft darted hither and thither, finally dividing into two sections, one section on each side of the channel through which the Glasgow steamed toward them. When the big steamship had steamed past, the ten little boats fell into line behind her, moving swiftly forward, two abreast.
Apparently the commander of the Glasgow, Captain Sawyer, had been informed that he was to be provided with an escort, for only the fluttering of a few signal flags from the Glasgow and from the motorboat Lion, which carried Lieutenant Commander Thompson, in charge of the mosquito fleet, betokened a greeting.
The Glasgow swept majestically past, not pausing in her stride. From the decks hands were waved and handkerchiefs fluttered toward the little vessels below, the passengers aboard leaning over the rails and speculating idly upon their presence.
The two foremost motorboats were The Hawk and the Lion, commanded by Lieutenant Commander Thompson and Lord Hastings. The others followed close behind.
Jack and Frank had watched all this maneuvering with great interest; and now that the flotilla, in perfect formation, was proceeding straight ahead, Frank turned to his commander with a question:
"And about where do you expect to pick up the enemy, sir?" he asked.
"Hardly more than twenty miles out—certainly not more than two hours," was the reply.
The motorboats followed closely in the wake of the big steamship. Although they were, of course, plainly visible from the steamer, and could possibly be seen from the sides, it was hoped that the enemies' submarine would take a position directly in front of the Glasgow when she accosted her. This would shield the motorboats from sight.
The Glasgow and its bodyguard were now out of sight of land. The sun shone brightly and the day was perfectly calm. There was scarcely a ripple upon the smooth surface of the sea.
Below, aboard the Glasgow, the passengers were at dinner. They were laughing and joking among themselves.
Aboard the motorboats all was peacefully quiet. The men not on duty were idling about and talking.
Suddenly Edwards, who stood forward on The Hawk, caught the peculiar fluttering of the signal flags aboard the Glasgow.
"Glasgow signalling, sir," he reported to Lord Hastings.
Lord Hastings quickly drew the attention of Commander Thompson to the Glasgow's signals, at the same time deciphering them for Frank and Jack.
The first signal read:
"Small vessel dead ahead."
Commander Thompson flashed back his response:
"Submarine?"
"Can't make out yet," was the answer.
There was some further wig-wagging; and then the need for this means of communication suddenly ceased.
There came a sharp blast from the Glasgow's horn and the big ship slowed down abruptly. Then came the sound of a shot from dead ahead and there was a splash between the Glasgow and The Hawk.
"The enemy!" exclaimed Lord Hastings.
Aboard each of the small motorboats every man sprang to his post. Soft commands carried back and forth across the water, while the signal flags of the Glasgow continued to flutter.
Then, even as Lord Hastings received from the Lion the command to advance, he read the last signal of the Glasgow.
"Submarine has halted us," it read. "Dead ahead."
The motorboat fleet came to life upon the instant. Again it divided into two parts, one passing on each side of the Glasgow, and darted forward toward the enemy.
Aboard each the forward guns were manned, the gunners ready to fire at the word.
On the Glasgow all was confusion. Passengers, attracted by the sound of the shot from the submarine, sprang from their tables and dashed on deck. There, as they made out the submarine, they turned pale. Only the reassuring voices of the officers averted a panic.
Then the passengers turned their attention to the fleet that was now passing around the big liner to the attack.
Rapidly the little craft sped forward and before the submarine commander had divined their presence, they were swooping down upon him, seemingly from all directions. Stunned at this unexpected arrival and before he could give a word of command, The Hawk unloosened her forward gun.
The shell went wide, but it brought immediate action from the submarine commander. Evidently he had no mind to try and torpedo the little craft, realizing, perhaps, that did he sink one the other would destroy him.
Motioning the other three men on deck before him, he sprang toward the little conning tower, bent on flight.
At this juncture the Lion came within range and her forward gun spoke loudly. The shell kicked up the water a few yards from the submarine.
"Hoorah!" came the British cry.
"A little soon to cheer," muttered Frank to himself, as he stepped forward to take his second shot at the submarine.
"Boom!"
The gun spoke sharply.
Ahead there was a terrible crash. The German submarine seemed to soar in the air like a skyrocket, and came down in a thousand pieces.
Frank's one well-directed shot had ended the battle.
Then a mighty cheer went up from the men of the mosquito fleet, in which the passengers aboard the Glasgow joined with a will.
Jack sprang forward and gave his chum a resounding slap on the back.
"That's what I call shooting," he declared fervently.
"Good work, Frank," said Lord Hastings quietly, stepping forward. "An excellent shot."
Masses of wreckage floating upon the surface of the sea were all that was left of the German submarine, with here and there a few floating bodies. Soon these disappeared and there was nothing to indicate that an under-sea craft had so recently been near.
From aboard the Lion, Commander Thompson signalled his compliments to The Hawk.
"And now I suppose we will go back again," said Frank to Lord Hastings.
"Well, no," was the reply. "The Glasgow is not safe yet. There may be other submarines in these waters. I should say that we shall escort her all of a hundred miles."
"What I would like to know," said Frank, "is why her commander, instead of trying to escape at once, didn't launch a torpedo or two. He might have disposed of one of us."
"But the others would have surely done for him," said Lord Hastings. "He probably figured he could submerge before we could hit him."
"He guessed wrong that time," declared Frank.
"Rather," agreed Jack with a smile. "There is no use talking, Frank, you are some boy when it comes to shooting."
All that afternoon the motorboat flotilla trailed the Glasgow; but until nightfall no other German submarine had appeared. An hour after nightfall, Commander Thompson gave the command to put about and return.
Slowly the little craft came about and started back toward Bantry Bay. Behind them now, the Glasgow, safe at last, steamed rapidly away, bound for the distant port of New York, and "home," said Frank to Jack.
"Do you wish you were on her," asked his chum curiously.
"No," replied Frank, slowly, "unless I was sure I would find my father waiting for me when I reached there. However, I am having a pretty good time on this side and I know that I shall return safely some day."
The Hawk, last in line, made her way back slowly.
An hour after the lights of the Glasgow had faded from view, Frank, glancing forward, was unable to make out the distant light of a single of the other motorboats. He called Lord Hastings' attention to this fact.
"Is that so?" exclaimed his commander in some surprise. "I had no idea we had been going so slowly. We'll step out a bit."
He issued a command, and the speed of The Hawk increased. But still, after an hour, they had failed to come up with the others.
"Well, it's nothing to worry about I guess. We know the way back as well as the others; besides, there is no particular hurry."
Accordingly The Hawk continued at rather slow speed.
Half an hour later, Frank, forward, made out a dark hulk lying low in the water a short distance ahead. He immediately called Lord Hastings' attention to the object.
The latter acted quickly.
"Extinguish all lights quickly," he called sharply.
The order was obeyed, and at a second command, The Hawk was slowed down so that she was barely moving.
"What's the matter, sir?" exclaimed Jack, in great surprise.
"Matter is that there is a submarine dead ahead of us," was his commander's reply.
"You mean that dark object there?"
"Yes."
"And are we going to sink her, sir?" asked Jack.
"We'll have a try at it," was the reply. "In this darkness we can go very close without fear of being seen, The Hawk is so small."
Fifty yards from the submarine, which lay quietly in the water, The Hawk came to a stop and the forward gun was made ready for action.
"Funny there isn't some one on deck," muttered Frank.
"By Jove! So it is," declared Lord Hastings. "Must be something wrong. I wonder what?"
"I have it, sir," declared Frank. "It's one of the vessels that those other motorboats—the ones we sunk—were to have reported to."
"I believe Frank is right," agreed Jack. "It probably comes to the surface here every night, awaiting their return."
"In that event the chances are that most every one aboard is asleep," remarked Lord Hastings.
He gave the command for The Hawk to proceed.
"What are you going to do, sir?" asked Frank.
"See if we can't capture her," replied Lord Hastings quietly.
Frank gave a low whistle. It was a plan after his own heart, but he was keenly sensitive to the danger that it involved.
"Very well, sir," he said quietly.
"This," declared Jack, manifesting a show of enthusiasm, "is where we have a little fun."