“That’s right,” approved Captain McGill; “you have sharp eyes, my lad. It is a derelict.”
“The question is, how badly are we damaged?” put in one of the naval officers. He spoke in quiet, level tones, though there was not a man in that conning-tower who did not realize that if any plates were badly sprung they were in deadly peril. The Lockyer was at least thirty miles off shore, and submarines carry no boats!
“Better make an investigation, sir,” suggested Lieutenant Parry.
“By all means, Mr. Parry. Send forward to ascertain if any of the forward plates are sprung.”
“Hum,” exclaimed the officer to himself; “if they are, down we go to the bottom.”
“Here, Strong,” he went on aloud, “you and Taylor take a lantern. Make thorough examination of the peak. If you find anything wrong, report at once.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” cried the boys, and together they vanished.
Procuring a lantern from the engine room, they hastened forward on their errand.
“Is she badly damaged?” asked Bowler, as they left his domain.