So closely had Phelps got the range that the “Logan” drove straight to the torpedo’s source. There the long, vague outline of a submersible was barely discernible under the deep blue of the sea.
“Over her!” Darrin ordered.
At their station the depth bomb men stood at alert, awaiting the word at which the bomb would be released by the touch of a finger.
As the destroyer swept over the submersible’s hull Dave shouted:
“Let go bomb!”
It was then that the finger touch was applied. Over the stern slipped the amazing mechanism which contained a steel shell. It was adjusted to go off automatically at a depth of thirty feet. Nothing within a hundred feet of the point of its explosion could escape being shattered.
Bump! came a heavy explosion. The “Logan” herself shook and plunged as a column of water shot up astern.
Instantly Dave ordered the ship about, for the dropping of another bomb, in case the first had failed.
No need, though, for the spreading of oil on the surface of the water showed how effective a hit had been made.
“Now, for more of the pests!” uttered Dalzell, gleefully. “We must beat our record of yesterday.”