As the destroyer shot across the path of the torpedo Torry fitted the butt of his rifle into the hollow of his shoulder, huddled his cheek against the stock, and brought the cross-sights of the rifle full upon the sharklike projectile.
The rifle report was almost instantaneous with the roar of the torpedo. The latter blew up not twenty yards from the destroyer’s rail!
“Hi! Hi! Hi!” yelled the mates of the keen-sighted Torrance.
“Well done!” called the officer of the watch through his megaphone. “Well done, Torrance!”
The whole crew cheered again, and Al’s flaming face acknowledged their appreciation. Mr. MacMasters came quickly to wring the lad’s hand in appreciation.
“Good for you, Torrance,” he said. “Your name goes down on the log for that.”
“Aw, she wouldn’t have hit us anyway,” said Al, quite overcome by so much praise.
“Never mind. It showed accurate marksmanship and good work, too. Those autoprojectiles are dangerous to leave drifting about the seas. You get a good mark, my boy.”
Meanwhile the Colodia, swerving not a hair from her course, reached and overran the spot where the submersible had sunk. The order rang out and the depth bomb was dropped. Then the destroyer scurried out of the way to escape the effect of the deep-down explosion.
Up from the depths rose a mound of muddy water. It rose twenty feet above the surface, and the spray shot twice as high. The thundering explosion shook the running destroyer in every part. The effect of the discharge upon what was under the sea must have been terrible.