"Well, it's a whale of a submarine, isn't it?" continued Bill in a brave effort to be funny.
Ted agreed, but was in no humor for joking, and hurried amidships to join Jack, who had remained within call of his commander.
For some moments the boys discussed the predicament of the Dewey, the unfortunate circumstances that had led her aground, and the possibilities of being floated again. Jack confided to his chum the fact that he had overheard Lieutenant McClure say the Dewey probably had ventured too close in shore and had run afoul of a sand bar.
"What's the next move?" queried Ted.
"You've got me, chum; I don't know what they will try next," answered
Jack, feeling a bit glum despite his natural cheerfulness.
Lieutenant McClure and his officers—-Cleary, Binns, and Blaine—-were now making an inspection of the Dewey fore and aft. As they returned amidships the boys overheard snatches of the conversation.
"Propeller blades free, aren't they?" McClure was asking.
"Working free and easy or else the shafts wouldn't turn," Blaine was saying.
From what the boys could gather from the conversation it was the belief of the ship's officers that the Dewey was grounded on a heavy sand bar. She had sloughed down deep in the miry sea bottom with her keel amidships firmly imbedded and her bow and stern floating free. The suction of the mud prevented her from rising.
In the wireless room Jack, Ted, Sammy Smith and Bill Witt finally came together and began speculating on the critical predicament of their ship. Cooped up in their cage of steel, shut off from the outside world of fresh air and sunshine, the crew of the Dewey were held prisoners like rats in a trap, dependent for life upon the air they were breathing and the precious stores of oxygen in the emergency tanks!