"Hungry? asked Beany.
"No," said Porky. He laughed. "You know what Colonel Bright's done to me? He's made me imagine things. I thought I saw something over there in the light—way, way off."
Beany stared. "Nothing doing!" he declared. "I could see if it was there, you know."
"Yes, I know your eyes," said Porky nervously. "I saw a gull or a porpoise, I suppose."
"I suppose you didn't see anything," said Beany, scanning the level sea. "Come on down to dinner."
"All right," agreed Porky. He turned from the rail with a last glance seaward. He seized his brother and whirled him about.
"Look! Look!" he cried. "There it is again, straight ahead! What's that?" Beany's keen eyes swept the sea in a lightning glance. Then lie dashed for the companionway and fairly fell into the presence of the Captain.
"A periscope! A periscope!" he gasped.
In another instant the Captain was on the bridge, the glasses at his eyes. He commenced rapping out short orders.
The boys, watching breathlessly, saw the guns trained on the little periscope which, like the reared head of a poisonous snake, came darting at them with a swiftness which seemed incredible. Then everything seemed to, happen at once. The little racer on whose throbbing deck they stood swerved like a frightened colt. Her guns spoke together; and at the same time something slim and long cut cleanly through the water and passed by, missing the Firefly's side so narrowly that the boys felt their knees weaken under them. The periscope shook as the guns volleyed again, wavered uncertainly, and sank from sight.