Uncle Sam's Boys with Pershing's Troops Part 19

"No one else. Take a look at him. Next to the last officer on the port side of the bridge."

The instant that the gla.s.s gave him a sight of the familiar face Captain Holmes uttered a whoop.

"Darry himself, and sure enough!" Greg exclaimed. "Wonder what he's heading in so close for?"

"He knows what he's doing," Prescott returned. "Don't worry about that."

"I don't," Greg retorted cheerfully. With a rounding sweep the destroyer commanded by Dave Darrin turned out of the way of the troops.h.i.+p, then came up close, on the same course, scooting by.

"Good old Darry!" Prescott yelled through a megaphone that Greg thrust into his unoccupied hand.

For a wonder Dave heard, just as the destroyer darted in at her closest point to the transport.

For just an instant Darrin turned to wave his hand. Then, between both hands, placed over his mouth, he shouted:

"Hullo, d.i.c.k! 'Lo, Greg!"

Dave waved his hand, then turned to give an order to his watch officer. A brief greeting, but it meant a world to the three chums who had had a part in it.

"Now, if Danny Grin's craft would only come in that close!" sighed Greg happily.

But it didn't. Once in a while Prescott and Holmes could make out the craft commanded by Dan Dalzell, but it didn't come in close enough for a hail.

Bang! sounded a destroyer's gun, far ahead.

Bang! came as if in answer from the bowgun of the leading transport.

"There are the Huns, and here is the sc.r.a.p coming!" yelled a corporal perched up in the bow of the s.h.i.+p.

Bang! Bang!

"Hurrah! Hurrah!" Cheers went up in such volume as to be deafening.

"Tell the men to stop that cheering," shouted Major Wells, in order to make d.i.c.k and Greg hear him. "And tell them that no more men are to crowd the rail on either side. No noise, and nothing to make the s.h.i.+p list!"

Going down three steps at a time, d.i.c.k and Greg descended the companionway forward of the pilot house.

"No cheering!" shouted Prescott, pus.h.i.+ng his way through the throng.

"Quiet!"

With d.i.c.k moving through the ma.s.ses of soldiers on the port side of the deck, and Greg performing a similar office on the starboard side, quiet was soon restored. Then Captain Prescott's voice was heard announcing:

"You men must remain quiet, or how can the s.h.i.+p's officers make their orders heard? Remember, not a cheer after this. And no more men are to crowd to the rails."

"It's a pity that the rest of us cannot see what is going on!"

half-grumbled a soldier, so close that Prescott heard him.

"I know just how you feel about that," the young captain admitted, wheeling and regarding the soldier. "But this is war, not sport.

Absolute, uncomplaining discipline is the surest means of bringing this s.h.i.+p and its human cargo through safely."

Another captain and Lieutenants Terry and Overton had joined the first two officers on the deck, and order was maintained without a flaw.

Bang! bang! bang! bang!

"This sounds like a full-fledged naval battle!" Greg Holmes called to his chum, his eyes dancing.

"And we cannot see a bit of it!" sighed a soldier complainingly.

"You're in a position to see as much of it as I'm seeing, my man,"

Prescott retorted, with an indulgent smile. "You and I are both obeying orders instead of pleasing ourselves."

Bang! bang!

Watching some of the officers at the rail on the deck above, Captain Prescott was able to discover that the fight was being brought close to his own s.h.i.+p.

Then there came another sign. From up forward the port bow gun of the troops.h.i.+p turned itself loose with a sharp report.

"Did you note how that gun's muzzle is depressed?" Greg asked d.i.c.k, in a low voice.

"I did," d.i.c.k answered with a nod.

Bang! The port gun had been turned loose again. Up on the saloon deck the officers at the port rail were waving their campaign hats as though what they saw filled them with liveliest interest.

"I'd like to be up there!" murmured Greg in his chum's ear.

"And I'm glad I'm down here," Prescott retorted. "It shows our men that captains of the regiment are shut out from the view as much as they are. I'd like to see what is going on, but so would I like to have all these men who cannot be near the rails see what is happening."

Bang! went the starboard bow gun of the transport, her nose pointing straight ahead.

"Only one thing is plain to me," Holmes declared. "We're in the midst of a pack of the sea wolves, and they're doing their best to hit us with torpedoes!"

CHAPTER XII

THE BEST OF DETAILS

Boom! It was a dull sound, off to port. Then even the men who stood in the middle of the spar deck were able to see the top of a broad column of water that rose out of the ocean.

Major Wells so far forgot himself as to give vent to a yell of joy, then suddenly clapped a restraining hand over his own mouth.

"Sorry you men couldn't have seen that," the major called, leaning over the rail above and addressing the men on the spar deck.

"A destroyer let go a depth charge, which exploded under water and threw up a geyser that would make hot water feel tired."

"Look at that now, Major," urged Captain Cartwright, pulling at his superior's sleeve. Major Wells walked to the side rail, looked out over the water, and had all he could do to keep back another yell of glee.