Again and a shot from the enemy, and this time it struck in the water just in front of the conning tower and flung a great spray that blinded the portholes.
The Dewey was just starting to submerge. With her diving rudders inclined, the ship was tilted now until her bow pointed downward and her stern reared up out of the water. She was shipping ballast in her tanks rapidly, but the process was necessarily slow and, even with her improved equipment, it must be one and a half to two minutes before the hull could be submerged, let alone the conning tower.
"Hold her right there!" suddenly shouted the young lieutenant to his navigating officer.
The latter was for a moment completely dumbfounded by the order.
"What—-you don't mean—-why—-" he started to say, but instantly withheld his speech at the frowning face of his superior officer.
"Up with that hatch!" the Dewey's commander thundered, as his executive officer stood aghast at the reckless procedure.
The latter hastened, however, to comply with the order.
"Wainwright!" shouted Lieutenant McClure.
Ted jumped into the conning tower beside his commander.
"You have already shown your bravery," began McClure hurriedly. "Here's another test for you. Climb through the conning tower, run forward and dive off the bow. But, first of all, grab a life-belt and strap it to you. Don't ask questions. Have confidence in me. When you get in the water, work your way rapidly around the bow of the Dewey to starboard. Float there in the shadow of our hull. Keep close up. All will be well in a moment."