An instant later the bomb splashed into the water.
Immediately following the splash there came a sullen, rending roar under water. A great column of water leaped up from the sea, a heavy volume of it landing on the after deck of the destroyer, all but washing overboard one of the lookouts. The pressure of water fairly lifted the stern of the "Grigsby" until her bow dipped far in.
Ensign Ormsby was thrown flat, almost rolling from the bridge. Dave, fortunately, had taken a grip that saved him from falling.
It seemed as though the destroyer herself had been blown up, but she quickly settled and scooted ahead at a furious rate.
"Half speed ahead," Darrin signalled, as soon as he could let go his grip, and the "Grigsby" slowed down. At the same time she swung around.
Even at that distance the huge spread of oil on the surface could be seen. A wild Yankee cheer rose, which was promptly echoed by the British tars of the patrol boat.
"No depth bomb ever made that upheaval," Dave gasped, as soon as he could speak, and Mr. Ormsby, much shaken, had picked himself up. "The bombs are ugly affairs, but that felt like the explosion of about ten of them."
"Did you notice, sir, that the explosion lasted more than twice as long as we've ever known one to last before?" the watch officer asked.
"Yes."
