"That will be splendid."
He stepped aside and gave a terse order. Delightedly, Pauline watched
the brief, machine-like movements of the crew trimming the deck.
Summers escorted her back to the conning tower. They descended.
Within a few moments the wonderful craft was buried under the waves.
"There he is—looking for us," laughed Summers, as he made room for
Pauline at the periscope.
Amazed, fascinated, she gazed from what seemed the bottom of the sea out upon the rolling surface of the waves. Harry's motorboat was near and he was standing in the bow, scanning the water with binoculars.
"And he can't see us?" asked Pauline.
"Oh, yes, he'll pick up out periscope after a while. Shall we fire the torpedo at him?"
"Yes, please," said Pauline.
Summers' laugh was cut short. As if someone had taken his jest in earnest and really fired a projectile, the crash of an explosion came from the bottom of the boat.
"Stay here—" ordered Summers with a set face as he joined the rush of seamen into the pump room.
But Pauline followed.