From the end of the torpedo tube a woman's form shot to the surface of the water. Choking, dazed, but courageous, Pauline tried to turn on her back and gain breath. But they were well out to seat and the waves were crushing.
"What is that?" asked Harry, pointing and passing his glasses to the boatman.
The man looked and without a word swung the craft about and put the engine at top speed. And in a few moments Harry's strong arms drew her from the water.
"My darling, what has happened?" he gasped.
"Don't think of me—think of them!" she begged, weakly. "They were trapped—down there. There was a bomb—a plot—the machinery is ruined. Harry, help them!"
The boatman who overheard Pauline's first cry of appeal, now came forward respectfully. "There's a revenue cutter—the Iroquois— coming out," he said, significantly.
Harry looked. "Splendid!" he cried. "Can we signal her?"
"No, but we can catch her?"
Shouts from a speeding motorboat brought the Government vessel to a stop. Officers came to the rail and helped Harry and Pauline to the deck.
"Ensign Summers and his crew are sunk in their submarine. The pumps are gone. There was a bomb explosion. Can you get help?"