It was generally thought that the captain would endeavor to run away at top speed, pursuing a zigzag course in order to avoid being struck when the crew of the submarine, finding the torpedo had missed its mark, brought their boat to the surface and commenced to shell the steamer.
This was just what happened. One thing, however, some of the passengers had forgotten. It was suddenly brought to their attention when a loud crash came. Shrieks arose from some of the women, although they had up to then borne themselves wonderfully well. The first thought was that the ship was under fire and that a shell had burst aboard.
“It’s our own gun-crew getting busy!” cried Tom.
At this there was a faint cheer. Confidence began to return and color again to tint cheeks that had become pallid.
Tom had surmised the truth. The “sea-slinker” as Jack called the enemy craft, had come to the surface and was already chasing after them. It was time for those manning the quick-firing three-inch gun in the stern of the steamer to show what they could do to a pursuing submarine.
Bang!
A shell burst to one side of the steamer. The German gunners could play at that game also, it seemed. They meant to pursue the big steamer and keep up a constant fire in the hope that some lucky shot might cripple her propellers or machinery, so that being unable to escape she would fall into their clutches.
Some of the more timid among the passengers hastened below, unable to look the peril directly in the face. Others, and women among them, remained on deck and cheered every time the gunners sent a shell back toward the low-down hull of the German submersible.
“That was a dandy shot!” shouted Jack, wild with excitement “A little short of the mark, but in a direct line. Next time look out, Kaiser Wilhelm, or you’ll get it in the neck!”
One shell from the pursuing boat had burst so close to the steamer that several of the passengers received slight wounds. Nothing serious resulted, however. A woman, who found her arm bleeding—in her excitement she had not felt the tingle of the scratch—wrapped her pocket handkerchief about the wound and continued to watch and cheer. Jack was glad to know she was an American woman, the wife of a consul over somewhere in France, going to offer her services to one of the hospitals.