“We have been honored by an order to go freelancing after a suspected vessel, supposed to be a German raider, last and recently reported to be off the Azores,” he said. “Because we were successful some months ago in taking the Graf von Posen, we are assigned to this work.”
At this point the crew broke into cheers, and with a smile the commanding officer waved his hand for the boatswain’s mates to pipe retreat.
The Colodia was at this time sailing within sight of half a dozen other destroyers bound out to pick up the expected convoy. After a little her wireless crackled a curt “good-bye” to her companions, and the Colodia changed her course for a more southerly one.
The chances, for and against, of overhauling the Sea Pigeon were volubly discussed, from the commander’s offices to the galley, and everybody, including the highest officer and the most humble steward’s boy, had a vital interest in the destroyer’s objective.
To attempt to chase a ship like this German raider about the ocean was a most uncertain task.
“But if the luck of the Colodia runs true to form,” Al Torrance expressed it, “we shall turn the trick.”
“That this Sea Pigeon is a raider and not a submarine, seems to be an established fact,” Belding said. “Sparks got some private information from the radio station at the Azores and says the ship is a fast steamer made over from some big, fat Heinie’s steam yacht he used to race before the war. She has just sunk a wheat ship from the Argentine.”
“Sparks” is the nickname usually applied to the radio operator aboardship, and George Belding was quite friendly with the chief of the wireless force on the destroyer.
“George gets all these ‘wireless whispers’ because he has a pull,” said Whistler, smiling. “If anything ever happens to Sparks, I expect we’d see George in there with his head harnessed.”
“And it’s no bad job!” cried Al enthusiastically. “I’ve often wished I could listen in on this radio stuff.”