There were no women on board but the other passengers were Frenchmen, mostly waiters from New York, going home to fight for la France. The cargo was pork and beef, destined to feed the army of France.
“What’s that thing sticking up in the water out yonder?” exclaimed Kent. “It looks like the top of a mast just disappearing.”
“A wreck, I reckon!” exclaimed Jim.
Kent smiled at his countryman’s “reckon.” Having been away from the South for many months, it sounded sweet to his ears. The “guess” of the Northerner and “fancy” of the Englishman did not mean the same to him.
The lookout saw the mast-like object at the same time they noted it, and suddenly there was a hurrying and scurrying over the whole ship.
“Look, it’s sunk entirely out of sight! Jim Castleman, that’s a German submarine!”
The shock that followed only a moment afterwards was indescribable. It threw both of the Kentuckians down. They had hastened to the side of the vessel, the better to view the strange “thing sticking up out of the water.”
The boats were lowered very rapidly and filled by the crazed passengers and crew. The poor waiters had not expected to serve their country by drowning like rats. As for the crew,—they were noncombatants and not employed to serve any country in any way. They were of various nationality, many of them being Portuguese with a sprinkling of Scandinavians.
“Here’s a life preserver, Brown! Better put it on. This ain’t the Ohio.”
“Good! I’ll take my chances in the water any day rather than in one of those boats. Can you swim?”