"What's up?" cried Bill Witt as Ted came bouncing into the torpedo room.
"Wait a moment and you'll see," replied Ted.
From the engine room aft came the purr of the motors as the last precious stores of "juice" were turned into the engines and the propellor shafts began to revolve amid the hum of machinery.
"Reverse and back away at full speed," was the next order flashed to the engine room.
And then, while the Dewey was straining in every steel sinew, her commander reached forward and touched off the four torpedoes in rapid succession.
The little submersible seemed torn by an internal explosion. As each torpedo shot out into the water the vessel shook under the force of the explosion, rocking to and fro under the concussion.
"We're off; we're off," shouted McClure as he bent over the depth dial. The hands of the indicator began to spin around and the Dewey, relieved of every pound of ballast, shot upward like a rocket.
"Hurrah, hurrah!" the cry reverberated through the ship.
In another two minutes the American submarine had gained the surface, her hatches were thrown open and the men swarmed out on deck—-to life and freedom!