“But we may be going right away from the Redbird!” Belding complained to the other boys.
“On the other hand, we don’t know but it may be taking us right toward your father’s vessel,” Whistler said, trying to comfort his friend.
He felt worried himself about it. There would be no chance to try to reach the Redbird by radio during the afternoon watch. Whistler was just as anxious as Belding; only he kept these feelings much more to himself.
The radio sparked message after message to and from the British ship. The Colodia was the only naval craft within possible reach of the spot from which the call came, although there were both British cruisers and torpedo boats on the Bermuda and Bahama stations.
But they were heavy craft, and it would have taken days for a boat from either station to reach the point indicated by the Ferret. Whereas, with good fortune, the American destroyer’s engines would drive her to the spot in three hours.
Could the British merchant vessel keep up the unequal fight for that length of time? The German must have already engaged her, or the radio message from the Ferret as first transmitted would not have been so exact.
From out of the air came messages from all directions urging the Colodia on. The Ferret’s S O S and the destroyer’s answer had been picked up by both ship and land stations. Ships long out of range, it would seem, became interested in the attempt to “get” the raider which had already cut such a swath among shipping in the Atlantic.
Remembering the fate of the Susanne, the crew of the Colodia had some reason for believing that this dash of the good destroyer was a “long shot.” It seemed scarcely possible that she would arrive at the scene of the fight in time to save the merchant ship from complete disaster.
Yet the radio messages were encouraging. After an hour the Ferret reported no serious damage done and that they had put two shells aboard their pursuer from their well-manned deck guns.
“Well done, Ferret!” flashed the destroyer’s radio. “Keep up the good work.”