Lieutenant Danvers must have known what was patent to every other mind but he neither said nor did anything. He was a Navy officer, trained not to display emotion.
"Good!" came from Captain Jack's lips. Yet, in the intensity of his strain it was a groan, rather than a note of exultation. "We're cutting into the 'Thor's' water."
A few moments more, and Benson found his craft slantingly across the
Rhinds boat's course, well ahead.
"Now, we'll show you!" quavered Jack Benson, as he briefly shook his fist back at the wicked rivals.
"If we don't blow the lid off this sea-turtle!" muttered young Somers, to himself.
At the youthful captain's sharp order Eph swung the course around.
"Now, drive straight toward the derelict, Eph!" breathed the young commander, his eyes glittering. "I leave the deck in your hands for a minute. You're broadside on, now. Keep driving, steady, as you are!"
As Farnum saw young Benson dashing his way the shipbuilder understood and darted down the stairs.
After him plunged Jack Benson. Below, both became cooler, for the task in hand must not be bungled. On one of the trucks they dragged a torpedo forward, fitting it in the tube.
As he closed the after port behind the torpedo, Jack bent over to place
Jacob Farnum's hand on the firing lever.