“How close?” Gray asked sharply.
“Just about kissing us,” came the answer. “But passing over—past now.”
Then everyone did relax. The crewmen began to talk a bit among themselves. Scotty looked at March and grinned, wiping a hand over his brow as if to brush away the sweat of fear, and then clasped both hands in a congratulatory signal. March just nodded.
“Nice work, Anson,” Gray said quietly. “That was a close one. Let’s have a cup of coffee. You probably need it.”
They turned toward the wardroom together, and March felt the eyes of all crewmen on him.
“Steady at a hundred feet,” the Skipper ordered before leaving the control room, “and keep on course.”
“Steady at one hundred,” came back the order. “Yes, sir.”
Then the officers went into the wardroom and sat down just as Stan appeared at the door.
“What in blazes happened?” he asked.
“We just about got run down, that’s all,” the Skipper smiled. “Not an uncommon occurrence in submarining, Bigelow. Your friend Anson here took us down in a big hurry.”