“Your chances,” Dave declared, “are that you probably will sink several submarines. Then, one of these days, you’ll either get the unlooked-for torpedo, or else you’ll meet a master in strategy or gunfire, and you’ll go to the bottom—and another bright plan will be given up by the Allies. But I hope you’ll do a huge lot of damage before the probable end comes.”
That night the “Prince” prowled the seas, and when Darrin awoke in the morning she was headed toward her home port, that time might not be wasted to the westward of the locality where German submarines were likely to operate against merchantmen.
Nor had Dave taken more than one look overboard before he discovered that the “Prince” now lay much lower in the water.
“Our water ballast tanks are filled,” Dan explained. “That gives us the appearance of being heavily loaded, as with American wheat, for instance.”
“Soldiers, wheat and ammunition are the things the Germans most enjoy sending to the bottom,” Dave nodded. “Really, it is too bad that this seeming old tub doesn’t look good enough to carry troops.”
“Oh, I think that even as a cargo tramp we’ll draw the fire of any submarine whose commander gets a glimpse of us,” Dan replied.
Within ten minutes after he had said it a submarine rose, fifteen hundred yards away, and, without firing, signalled to the “Prince” to lie to.
Almost instantly “Abandon ship” shrieked from the steam whistle, and the early performance of the day before was gone through with. After the boats had started away, bearing sailors and men and “women” passengers, the submarine came up closer.
All in a jiffy the ports were opened and all three shells from the starboard battery landed in the enemy hull. There was no fight after that, the submersible sinking before any of the crew could get clear to save themselves.
“Do you begin to see the joke?” demanded Danny Grin, grimly. “Are you prepared to join in the laugh at the Germans?”