So Scoot got into his clothes and ate a delicious meal over which he exclaimed mightily.
“Say, there’s something to pigboat service, anyway,” he said. “I thought we ate pretty well on the Bunker Hill but this is fit for a king.”
“Submarine men are kings,” March said, and for once Scoot would not argue on their favorite subject of the past.
Soon they went to bed, except for those on watch, and at dawn the next morning proceeded on their way, submerged. Scoot was fascinated at the diving operation and looked with some awe on March as he carried out the complicated maneuver. It was only then that he learned that March had become second in command of Kamongo. March then led his friend on a tour of the submarine, explaining the workings of all the complicated machinery, introducing him to the crew, who welcomed him warmly.
“Not bad, not bad,” Scoot said. “I begin to see why you like all this so much. Nice small crowd here, all getting along well together. And I don’t mind the idea of being under water at all, the way I thought I would.”
Scoot and March and Larry sat down in the wardroom to go over their plans.
“You see,” Larry explained, “I have a hunch the Japs are following a course with this convoy entirely different from any they’ve followed before. They are aware that we know they’ll reinforce Truk as fast as possible. So we’re looking for them to take a direct route. But the Chinese reported that there was something strange about the route. What is it? It’s that it is so indirect.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Scoot agreed.
“Well, they don’t want to take forever getting there, however,” Larry went on, “so they’re not being too indirect. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if they went down the western side of the Philippines, as if heading for Indo-China or Burma or the Dutch East Indies. Then they might cut through east above Mindanao, the lower of the big islands in the Philippines. After that they’d make a fast dash straight east for Truk.”
“Why wouldn’t we catch them easily there?” March asked.