Of a sudden there came a hail from the other masthead where two lookouts stood in the cage with glasses.
"On deck, sir! Submarine just awash on the starboard quarter, sir!"
The cry was in truth a startling one. Whistler and Torry, who had sprung with their mates to the guns of the second turret, were on the starboard side. A second submarine? Why, it seemed the ship was being surrounded by these wasps of the sea.
A sharp whistle sounded in the turret. The officer in charge sprang to the tube.
"Ready for deflection and range? Stand by!" was the order.
"Aye, aye, sir!" responded the turret captain.
Ammunition boxes appeared as though by magic and were broken open. Plugs were swung back and the gun bores were examined. The starboard gun was quickly charged. Whistler and Torry both worked on her. They stood back, the gunner standing with his finger on the button of the trigger.
"That submarine's going down!" gasped one watcher. "We'll lose her."
The next moment the executive officer's report for deflection and range came through the tube. Then: "Are you on?"
"On, sir!"