'Top hole, thanks. A bit empty. That's all.'
'If that's your only trouble, we'll soon fix it. Can you walk?'
'You bet.'
'Then come along forrard, and we'll see what cooky can do for you.'
Cooky's efforts consisted in biscuit, butter, sardines, jam, and lashings of hot strong tea, to all of which Ken did the fullest justice.
'And how d'ye like life under the ocean wave?' asked Williams, who was watching Ken's progress with the eye of a connoisseur.
'First time I ever tried it,' said Ken, glancing round the long, narrow interior which seemed merely a packing case for a maze of intricate machinery. 'What is she? What class I mean?'
'She's G 2, sonny, and don't you forget it. The last word in submarine gadgets. Twenty knots on the surface, and twelve submerged. Carries eight o' the biggest and best torpedoes, any one o' which is warranted to knock the stuffing out o' the "Goeben" or any other o' Weeping Willy's super-skulkers.'
'Where are we now?' inquired Ken with interest.
'Couldn't say precisely. But somewheres about ten fathom below the shinin' surface of the Dardanelles.'