Instantly the young fellow was stirred into strenuous activity.
“Full speed astern—on your life!” he shouted to Dick.
At the same time Bob put the wheel over, hoping to make a turn and get the Grampus on a parallel course with the steamer.
But there was not room, nor time, enough for the turn. Unless the motor stayed the Grampus she was bound to crash into the other vessel.
Dick, however, got the propeller to turning the other way just at the critical moment. The speed of the submarine slackened in answer to the reverse pull, and the stern of the steamer swung by into the gloom with a margin of scarce a dozen feet, leaving the Grampus bobbing in her troubled wake.
“All right now, Dick,” called Bob, in a voice that shook somewhat. “Drive her ahead.”
“What was wrong?” inquired Dick.
“We just missed a collision with a steamer. Your quick work saved us.”
Dick gave a long whistle, and went on with his work. “A miss is as good as a hundred fathoms, sometimes,” he answered lightly.