“Periscope on the starboard quarter!”
Dan performed a sprint to the starboard end of the bridge, to find the news only too true, though the periscope vanished within a second or two after he had sighted it.
“’Ware torpedo, on port quarter!”
Moving like a jumping-jack, Dan’s right hand reached for the lever of the engine-room telegraph. Half-speed ahead! Full speed!
“’Ware torpedo on starboard quarter!”
There was no time to observe the torpedo wake traveling toward the “Prince.” Dalzell’s orders were based on what he had seen of the locations of the two periscopes.
A sharp, oblique turn to starboard, then a further turn just as the propellers began to kick at full speed.
Both torpedoes passed astern, their courses crossing. The maneuver brought the tramp around so that the starboard battery could now be trained on the submersible to the southward.
Her commander, taking desperate chances, rose to the surface to open with his forward gun.
Fatal mistake! Only one gun barked from the “Prince’s” starboard battery, tearing a hole in the Hun’s hull. And now Dalzell completed the turn to give his full attention to the remaining submarine. She, commanded by a more cautious man, had vanished.