For some minutes there had been silence, but at last one of the group in the bow spoke.
“Late to-night I expect that we shall enter the outer edge of the Danger Zone.”
“If the Huns and their subs are there to meet us it will kill a lot of the monotony,” declared another soldier.
“I wonder if the Huns will put up any real excitement for us in that line,” said a third.
“Getting nervous, Pete?” asked the first speaker, with a short laugh.
“Not a bit,” replied Pete, hiding a yawn with his left hand.
“Nothing to get nervous about,” spoke up a fourth soldier. “The Huns are bully at sinking unarmed freighters, but so far, if they know anything about getting convoyed troopships they haven’t used much of their knowledge.”
“Still, they do get a troopship once in a while,” spoke up another soldier, in a serious tone. “They may get us.”
“Won’t amount to much if they do,” declared Pete, boldly. “Some of us would get off in the boats, and the rest of us would drop into the water with our life-belts on. Then we’d soon be picked up by a destroyer and we’d be all right again. Pooh! This so-called submarine ‘menace’ makes me tired. With all their submarines and all their bluster the Huns don’t do enough damage to our troopships to make it worth all the bother they have to take.”
“Anybody going to stay awake all night, to see if we get it during the dark hours?” inquired another.