"Shut that man's mouth! Gag the poor fool! What are we—men or mice?"
"We're men—that's what we are, Skipper!" shouted Frank Sanderson, suddenly grinning up into the face of the old shipmaster.
An appreciative, if uncertain, laugh was raised among the passengers and crew within hearing. The commander of the Belle o' Perth had now taken a confident stand. Captain Dexter apologized for his display of excitement and retreated from the quarter-deck, where fraternal courtesy only had allowed him.
A second shell from the submarine exploded within half a cable's length. The great ship swerved sharply, the sea boiling under her bows. She swung in a great arc and it looked as though she would end by being driven directly upon the U-boat.
The commander of the undersea craft evidently thought this was the intention. Although the submarine was not then in a perfect position for such an attempt, a torpedo was launched—an act not at all unpermissible, as the craft attacked refused to halt.
Belinda Melnotte and Frank Sanderson, now hanging over the rail, saw the white streak of the torpedo in the sea. Other passengers had run below to secure their valuables and to put on life preservers. But the Red Cross recruit had refused to go; and Aunt Roberta was a fatalist.
Belinda realized that the aviator again held her hand. She did not seek to withdraw it. Their mutual gaze was fixed on the deadly missile shot from the torpedo tube of the U-boat. Another moment——
Tendrils of fog were wafted across Belinda's cheek. She glanced around, startled. The high bows of the Belle o' Perth were already parting the fogbank. That was why the commander had shifted his helm so quickly.
The great steamship swept grandly past the ugly undersea boat. The fog closed softly about the Belle o' Perth and hid her. The ship's course was changed for a third time and at once she was out of the zone of danger. The less speedy submarine could neither overtake her before she entered the fog, nor discover the liner once the mist had closed about her.
But something had happened in these minutes of anxiety to both Belinda and Frank Sanderson. They turned, when the ugly craft was out of sight, to look once more into each other's countenances.