THE BIG GUN SPEAKS
The thing the lookout had spied bobbing in the sea was not exactly in the wake of the battleship, for those who rushed to the port rail could see it quite well. It wabbled about in a most eccentric way, as though the submarine attached to it had risen just as the Kennebunk passed and had received the full force of her swell.
"Jingo! that's a funny lookin' periscope," drawled one second-class seaman, a new recruit, craning his long neck to see over the heads of the group which Frenchy and Ikey had joined.
"What did you think they'd look like?" demanded another.
"Something like a smokestack with a curlycue on the end of it," was the reply.
Frenchy and Ikey were giggling immeasurably. The former said: "Isa Bopp couldn't beat that, could he?"
"Oi, oi!" sighed Ikey ecstatically. "A periscope like a smokestack!"
But more than this new recruit aboard the Kennebunk began to doubt the validity of the bobbing thing in the water astern. The big battleship was being swerved to bring the port broadside to bear upon the now distant object. The bugle rang for stations. The sudden activity of the whole ship's company was inspiring.
Of a sudden there came a hail from the other masthead where two lookouts stood in the cage with glasses.
"On deck, sir! Submarine just awash on the starboard quarter, sir!"
The cry was in truth a startling one. Whistler and Torry, who had sprung with their mates to the guns of the second turret, were on the starboard side. A second submarine? Why, it seemed the ship was being surrounded by these wasps of the sea.
A sharp whistle sounded in the turret. The officer in charge sprang to the tube.
"Ready for deflection and range? Stand by!" was the order.
"Aye, aye, sir!" responded the turret captain.
Ammunition boxes appeared as though by magic and were broken open. Plugs were swung back and the gun bores were examined. The starboard gun was quickly charged. Whistler and Torry both worked on her. They stood back, the gunner standing with his finger on the button of the trigger.
"That submarine's going down!" gasped one watcher. "We'll lose her."
The next moment the executive officer's report for deflection and range came through the tube. Then: "Are you on?"
"On, sir!"
"Fire!"
It seemed that almost instantaneously with the roar and recoil of the huge gun the shell burst beside the sinking submarine. The explosion was terrific; the whole hull of the undersea boat heaved up, exposing its length for a few seconds. Then the sea-shark sank, going down like a shot.
"A hit! A hit!" yelled the men in turret two.
A cheer burst from the throats of the whole ship's company. Those who had not seen it, realized that the first gun fired in earnest by the Kennebunk had reached its target.
"The old ship's bound to have good luck!" shouted a boatswain. "This is only the beginning! We'll sweep the seas of every Hun!"
The officers did not try to quell the cheering. The satisfaction and pride of all was something too fine to be quenched.
The battleship swerved again and ran across the track of the sunken U-boat. Bubbling up from the depths were blobs of black oil which lazily spread and broke upon the sea's surface.
The German submarine was done for. Her crew were buried with her at the bottom of the sea. The cheering ceased when this fact was realized.
"The poor square-heads!" muttered one fellow near Frenchy and Ikey Rosenmeyer. "They couldn't help it, I s'pose. They say they are driven into the subs. Aren't no volunteers called for."
"Where's that other sub?" demanded another. "Has she sunk, too?"
Frenchy and Ikey began to grin again. One of the boatswains said: "I bet that warn't no submarine ship at all. She's a joke. There! We're going to circle around and hunt her up."
"Do you think the Fritzies set something afloat to fool us?" demanded another man in surprise. "They're cute rascals, aren't they?"
"Not very cute just now," returned somebody, dryly. "They're food for the fishes."
"Just the same, if we'd got our attention completely fixed upon this here floating joker, the real sub might have sneaked up within range and sent us a lover's note in the shape of a torpedo."
Frenchy and Ikey began to look at each other with some worriment of countenance. Later it was reported that the first "periscope" could not be found. The two mischief-makers were greatly relieved.
"Say! that wasn't any joke," Ikey whispered to the Irish lad. "Oi, oi! S'pose they had grappled for it and brought it aboard and found "Kennebunk" stamped on those iron belayin' pins we used for weights?"
"Don't say a word!" urged Frenchy.
"You bet I won't!" agreed Ikey. "Not even to Whistler and Al. We come pretty near putting our foot in it that time, Frenchy."
The Irish lad agreed warmly: "By St. Patrick's piper that played the last snake out of Ireland!" he reiterated, "no more practical jokes, Ikey. This is a lesson. And say!"
"What is it?"
"I left my knife down there in that room. I've got to go down after it before it's found and the master-at-arms asks questions."
"All right. I'll go down and watch out for you," declared the loyal Ikey.
The target ship was being signaled again and she was coming back. At the first alarm of a submarine in the vicinity she had started coastward.
The wireless was snapping. Messages were being sent out announcing the sinking of the U-boat and warning other craft, especially merchant vessels, of the possibility of other undersea boats being in the vicinity.
It was proved, at least, that the Germans had sent more submarines to this side of the ocean. The visit of the Deutschland and of U-53 to America before the United States got into the war, had been in the nature of a warning as to what the Hun could really do. Now perhaps a squadron of U-boats was to be sent across to prey upon American shipping or to shell helpless seaboard towns.
The two younger Seacove boys, who had come so near committing a huge piece of folly by their small practical joke, slipped down to the lower deck again to recover Frenchy's knife. If it should be found by the master-at-arms, or was handed to him, it would go into the lucky bag; and then Frenchy would have to explain how he lost it in that unused compartment of the ship if he wished to get back the knife again.
Just as they got to the passage abaft the compartment in question, Ikey uttered a warning "hist!" and drew Frenchy back. Somebody was coming out of the room in which they built the dummy that had so fooled the ship's company.
"Who is it?" gasped Michael.
"Oi, oi!" murmured Ikey, peering again, "It's Seven Knott."
"Shucks! I'm not afraid of him," said Frenchy stepping forth into the passage. The next moment he cried out: "What's the matter, Hansie?"
The petty officer was plainly frightened. He turned with rolling eyes and a pasty countenance to the two boys.
"What you seen?" demanded Ikey, likewise disturbed by the petty officer's appearance.
"No—nothin'," murmured the frightened Seven Knott. "But—but it's a ghost."
"What's a ghost?" demanded the boys together, and although they did not believe in ghosts, they could not help being shaken a bit by Seven Knott's earnestness.
"It's what I heard," whispered the older man, still trembling.
"Oi, oi!" exclaimed Ikey Rosenmeyer suddenly. "Was it a clock ticking?"
"That's it! That's what it sounded like. But there's no clock there," the boatswain's mate said. "I couldn't find anything. It's all about you—in the air! I tell you it's a ghost, a ghost-clock. 'The death watch.' They say you hear it on board a ship when she's doomed to sink. Something bad is going to happen to the Kennebunk," finished Seven Knott earnestly.
"Crickey!" cried Frenchy under his breath. "Something bad just happened to that German U-boat. Maybe this death watch you talk about was counting out the submarine, not the battleship."
But Hertig was not to be easily pacified. He was superstitious anyway. He believed that he could not be drowned himself, for instance, because he had been born with a caul over his face.
Frenchy went into the room, presumably to listen for the "tick-tock" sound; but actually to find his knife. He came out with the latter in his pocket; but he also showed a rather pale face and he had not much to say until Seven Knott went away.
The latter crept away, plainly in great trouble of spirit. Ikey asked his chum:
"Did you hear it again?"
"Ye-es," admitted Frenchy. "It does sound queer. What do you suppose it can be?"
"Don't know. Let's tell Whistler," said Ikey, who had a deal of confidence in Morgan.
"That's all right. But don't tell him anything about our being in that room before. Remember, Ikey, we don't know a livin' thing about that first periscope the lookouts spied."
"Sure I won't tell," agreed the other. "It wasn't such a good joke after all, was it, Frenchy?"
And Frenchy agreed with a solemn nod of his head.