'It's no use, dad,' said Ken, as another shell cut away the top of the stumpy funnel. We can't get away. Let's finish, fighting.'
'Turn and try to ram her?'
'Yes, and Dimmock might by luck get a shell into her. He's a pretty nippy shot in spite of being out of practice.'
'All right, Ken. I'd rather die fighting than running.'
He raised his voice.
'Mr Morgan, put her hard aport! Dimmock, here's your chance for a last shot.'
Round came the launch, turning on her keel like a racing yacht, and straight she sped for her big pursuer. The latter was evidently taken aback by this unexpected manoeuvre, and for a moment her searchlight lost the launch.
The moment the glare was gone the hull of the destroyer showed up dark against the mist.
'Now's your chance, Dimmock!' cried Ken, and almost instantly the little gun spoke, and the crash was followed by a flash which lit the destroyer's deck.
'Oh, good shot, Dimmock!' exclaimed the captain. 'That shell exploded right under her bridge.