"YOUR bird," wirelessed Lieutenant-Commander Ronald Tressidar, D.S.O., of H.M. Destroyer "Antipas."
"Thanks," was Barcroft's laconic reply.
"Stand by and pick up the pieces."
The "Antipas" approached rapidly, manoeuvring to keep bows on to the U-boat's stern. Fritz is a treacherous skunk to deal with. The modern pirates lack even the faint spark of chivalry that was to be occasionally met with in the German Navy during the earlier stages of the Great War. If the crew of the surrendered craft had an opportunity it was just possible that they might have let fly at the destroyer with a torpedo; consequently, in the knowledge that there was no sting in the submarine's tail, Tressidar took the precaution already referred to.
"Away whaler," ordered the lieutenant-commander. "I suppose the bounders have opened the sea-cocks, Mr. Holcombe, but make sure on that point."
The whaler was manned and lowered, with Sub-Lieutenant Holcombe in command. Only a distance of two cables' lengths separated the "Antipas" from Barcroft's prize.
"We surrender!" announced von Loringhoven, as the boat ran alongside U 254.
"So I understand," replied Holcombe. "If you've been trying to scuttle your hooker, take my tip and close the valves. We are about to take you in tow."
"Himmel!" ejaculated the ober-leutnant. "It is impossible. Every plate in the hull is strained."
"I'll satisfy myself on that point," rejoined the sub. "If you play any monkey tricks there'll be trouble for the whole crowd of you."