And the report of the wearied crew included a description of the submarine. She was camouflaged by a high bow and a rail all around, as well as by a canvas smokestack to make her look like a tramp freighter.
"The craft we raised going into the Roads!" ejaculated the warrant officer. "It's her, for a penny!"
"No argument," growled Ensign MacMasters. "We fell down that time. Although we might have had our hands full if we had tackled her with our two small guns."
It seemed that the disguised undersea boat mounted four guns on her deck, but she was a slow sailer. She had moved up close to the schooner before showing her teeth.
Then she dropped two shells near the Hattie May to show the skipper that she had the range of his schooner. He had to surrender, and the U-boat moved up and gave him and his crew ten minutes to get into the boats. Then they sank the Hattie May by hanging bombs over her sides and exploding them simultaneously by an electric arrangement.
The skipper of the schooner was taken aboard the U-boat and said he was shown all over the ship. The German captain seemed to be inordinately proud of his craft and what she could do.
"She's got torpedoes, but she don't use 'em because they are expensive," said the skipper. "They are saved for a last resort. But she is a mine layer, for I saw two wells and saw the mines, too. She has been out five weeks and is numbered U-Two Hundred Fifty."
"Two hundred fifty!" gasped Whistler to his chums, who were hanging over the rail to listen to this report. "What do you know about that?"
"That's the very number that man Blake used in the restaurant, talking with the skipper of the oil tender, wasn't it?" asked Frenchy of the quick memory.
"You mean Franz Linder, the German spy!" ejaculated Torry, with emphasis. "He spoke of this very sub."