Captain Jack Benson, resting one hand on the wheel, gazed off at port side with fascinated stare.
Almost instantly a grating could be heard that must have come from the propeller shafts, though the young skipper, at that moment, was incapable of thinking of anything save that tiny fin-line out on the water.
Then the speed ahead of the submarine boat stopped. In another moment the little steel craft was creeping backward.
On came that fin-line.
There was nothing more that Jack could do, save to hold the wheel rigid.
On for the bow of the "Hastings" came the fin-line. Would that moving torpedo strike, hurling them all to destruction?
It must have been by a hair's breath, but that fin-line crossed the bow of the submarine. It had gone on, beyond—harmlessly, now!
"What's that you're saying, Eph?" demanded Jack. "Oh, yes; you want to know why I bowled you over in that fashion. Because there wasn't time to speak. I was crazy to get the reverse gear at work, and take us out of the path of that torpedo aimed for us."
"Torpedo?" demanded Eph Somers, thunderstruck.
"Torpedo?" repeated Jacob Farnum, in bewilderment.