But it was too late. The engines had been stopped, the crew were on deck and long before they could start the motors and get under way the awful death dealing torpedo would be upon them and all would be over. It was traveling at a terrific speed and the white, foaming trail of its wake was plainly visible. Barely 500 feet lay between those on the submarine and instant death.
They were helpless, numbed, frozen with horror. Utterly unable to move, powerless to escape they stood there, the boys clinging to Mr. Pauling, the men with set faces, gritted teeth and grim eyes watching the oncoming, inevitable death.
But Rawlins had spied the torpedo as soon as Frank. With feverish haste he had loaded his gun; like a madman he swung it and depressed the barrel all unnoticed by those who were watching the oncoming torpedo and were hoping against hope, praying with heart and soul that by some miracle, some chance, it might miss, might fail to explode.
And as they prayed the miracle happened. A flash, a roar and where, an instant before, the torpedo had been, a huge column of water and foam sprung like a gigantic geyser high in air. There was terrific detonation, a concussion that threw the boys flat upon the deck, a shower of spray and as the submarine rocked, reeled and plunged to the waves the white-faced boys rose trembling and shaken to their feet. They were saved! Rawlins’ skill had won, his well-aimed shot had been the answer to their prayers!
But Rawlins seemed suddenly to have gone mad. He was leaping, dancing and shouting.
“Darn their hides!” he screamed. “They got away! They’ve submerged! By glory if I’d only had another shot at ’em!”
It was true. Where the other submarine had been the water stretched unbroken, unruffled even by a periscope.
“Get down below!” ordered Rawlins racing towards the group upon the deck. “They may fire another torpedo or ram us! It’s risky up here!”
Pellmell after him the others pushed down the ladder and an instant later the submarine was once more under the sea while Rawlins swung the periscope about and Bancroft listened at the detector.
“I’m getting them,” he announced presently, “but pretty well off. Yes, getting fainter all the time. Expect they’re only too glad to get away.”