The Brighton Boys with the Submarine Fleet Part 16

For a moment he debated the idea of releasing a torpedo that might be noticed by the crew of the unknown vessel. But such a plan was not feasible, for the s.h.i.+p would think only of being attacked and would stand ready to repel an enemy rather than look for a submarine in distress. Furthermore, such an expedient was out of the question; for, gazing at his watch, he found that it was only four o'clock and hardly light enough for a torpedo to be seen unless it pa.s.sed very close to the oncoming s.h.i.+p.

"There is one thing we might do," spoke up Jack Hammond. "Lieutenant, I have a plan to suggest. We seem to be in a desperate situation that demands some prompt action. That vessel up there may be an American or British destroyer. It is up to us to find out while there is yet a chance for our lives. Shoot me out the torpedo tube, sir. I'm a good strong swimmer and I may be able to attract their attention. The thing has been done before and I'm perfectly willing to take a chance."

"Your proposal is in good faith, boy," interrupted his commander, "but it strikes me as a foolhardy proposition. We are down here more than eighty feet and, even though you got up to the surface, the chances of your gaining the attention of that vessel are mighty slim."

Jack stepped forward eagerly. "It has been done before and I'm willing to take that chance," he urged. "If we stay here we are done for.

Unless we find some way of floating the _Dewey_ within the next twenty-four hours we've all got to take our chances on getting out of here. Let me go now. It might as well be now as later on. We've got to act quickly."

For a moment Mcclure stood motionless surveying the intrepid youngster.

It seemed such a desperate chance, and yet, under the circ.u.mstances, something had to be done.

"You are a brave boy, Jack," said Mcclure finally, springing forward and grasping the hand of his aide. "If you are willing I'll let you do it, for, under the circ.u.mstances, we are forced to resort to some heroic measures. G.o.d bless you, lad! And now let react quickly."

In short order the entire party repaired to the torpedo room forward where Jack was to attempt his hazardous experiment. Taking off his coat and shoes, which he fastened around his neck, Jack stood ready for the ordeal. Mike Mowrey had opened the upper port chamber and with the aid of his crew run out the torpedo that had been placed therein ready for firing. All was in readiness for the youth to crawl through the breech cap and stretch himself out like a human torpedo.

Lieutenant Mcclure was sure that the prow of the _Dewey_ lay free of the sand bar on which the vessel was poised, and that there was no obstruction in front of the bowcap. But to make doubly sure he ordered the discharge of a torpedo from the lower starboard chamber.

It left the bowcap free and with full power, giving a.s.surance that no obstacle intervened beyond the mouth of the torpedo tubes.

Jack saluted his lieutenant, signifying his readiness to go.

"So longs Ted!" was his jaunty sally as he turned for an instant to his old Brighton chum. For a few seconds the two boys gazed full into each other's eyes, their hands clasped in a farewell.

"Good luck to you, old man!" said Ted, with a gulp in his throat.

"All ready now!" smiled Jack, as he turned first to his commander and then inserted his head in the mouth of the torpedo tube, motioning with his hands for his comrades to thrust him into the chamber.

CHAPTER XVI

IN THE WIRELESS STATION

In less time than it takes to tell, Jack was bundled into the long steel case, his arms stretched over his head well forward toward the bowcap. So tightly was he wedged in the aperture that his shoulders rubbed against both sides of the tube. Before climbing into the chamber he had hastily crammed a handful of waste inside his hat to act as a cus.h.i.+on for the water pressure against his skull that would be inevitable once his body was thrust out into the sea.

"Are you all ready, Mr. Hammond?" called his commander as he bent over the mouth of the breech cap and reached forward to give the boy a friendly tug at one foot.

"All ready, sir," answered Jack.

The breech cap was swung shut and Jack could hear the click of the mechanism as he was locked in by his comrades and they prepared to shoot their human torpedo out of the sunken submarine.

Now he was completely isolated in the dark, cold tube. The voices of his companions were not audible. It was a time to test the nerve of the most callous individual.

Whis-s-s-h! The compressed air came hurtling into the tube with a roar as of a mighty Niagara. It enveloped him and seemed pressing against his body like many tons of steel. Instinctively the lad inhaled deeply and gritted his teeth.

In another moment the bowcap was swung open and then came a rush of air that shot him forward at a dizzy velocity. As though driven by the force of a thousand tornadoes the boy felt himself, catapulted out of the tube and into the cold salt water that closed around him like a great wall.

His senses reeled and his brain was numbed by the terrible roaring that pounded in his ears. But he had the will to live and he began his fight.

He brought his legs into play and swam upward furiously. Would he ever get there? It seemed an eternity as he battled through the ma.s.s of the sea. His arms and legs were getting numb now; his lungs seemed torn to shreds and his head throbbed with intense pain.

And then, when he was almost lapsing into unconsciousness, his head shot up out of the waves, and the boy realized that he had reached the crest of the mountain of water!

For a moment Jack felt paralyzed in every muscle. Then, as he breathed again the cold pure air of the outside world, his senses came struggling back through the haze into which he had felt himself drifting and he was invigorated again. With a great effort the boy turned over on his back with his face to the sky and floated luxuriously, with arms and legs limp on the surface of the water.

Resting thus for a time, he turned finally and struck out with a bold stroke, determined at once to make note of his position. It all came back to him in a flash---the unknown s.h.i.+p that Sammy Smith had heard working its way up along the coast.

Was it near? Was it friend or enemy? Would he be seen?

Jack lifted his head and scanned the horizon. It was early morning and dawn was breaking out of the sky. The first thing that attracted his attention was a heavy pall of smoke that hung over the water. The sea was rough.

Carried up on the crest of a wave he beheld the s.h.i.+p that the microphone had discovered for him in the wireless room. It was now a long way past the spot where the _Dewey_ lay submerged and had pa.s.sed northward, several hundred yards nearer the coast. Carried fifty or a hundred feet forward through the water by the force of the expulsion from the torpedo tube, the youth had emerged in the widened wake of the vessel. Apparently it was a German wars.h.i.+p returning to its base in Wilhelmshaven after a night raid off Dunkirk or Ostend. It was hugging the coast fortifications now for protection.

Floating alone in the ocean, a mere speck in the water, Jack turned toward land. It was his only salvation now.

Tearing off his hat and with it the wet waste he had inserted as a cus.h.i.+on for his head, he struck out with long bold strokes. The fresh air and the salt water invigorated him wonderfully after the long confinement in the stifling atmosphere of the _Dewey_.

As he swam he thought of the boys back there in Uncle Sam's submersible and how they, too, would be negotiating this same swim very shortly---provided they escaped as safely as he had.

Before his mind flashed also the picture of what might happen to him when at last his feet would strike bottom and he would make his way through the surf to sh.o.r.e. He knew full well that practically all of the Belgian seafront was held by the Germans. It was not likely he could go very far without encountering a Hun coast patrol. But he reserved to make the best of the situation and trust to luck.

After a hard swim he found himself in the surf and then his feet touched bottom and he made his way sh.o.r.eward through the breakers.

Fatigued by the trip, he threw himself down on the sand, puffing and blowing from the effects of his fight in the water.

As he rested, he heard the murmur of a skyplane's motors and turned to behold a giant Gotha machine heading up the coast. Stretching himself out quickly, as though to simulate the posture of a drowned man cast up by the waves, he lay wide-eyed watching the German birdman.

Undoubtedly, it was one of the aerial coast patrol.

Five hundred feet above, it lazily floated along. It came closer and closer, finally flying almost directly overhead. With bated breath the boy on the sand waited for its pa.s.sage and heaved a great sigh of relief as it purred onward in the direction of Blankenberghe without giving any indication as to whether its pilot had noted the body on the sand below.

Jack scrambled to his feet.

"Might as well find out what's doing here," he muttered to himself.

He peeled off his wet clothes. One at a time he wrung out his garments and shook the water out of his long black hair. Then he turned for a glance around him. In front of him loomed the sand dunes, their weird s.h.i.+fting formations dotted here and there with scraggly underbrush. Down the coast the picture was the same.

Turning, the lad gazed northward in the general direction where he knew lay Holland and her neutral sh.o.r.es.

"That's where I go from here," he said cheerfully.

He had jogged along not more than a quarter of a mile when the coast line veered sharply to right, leaving only the expanse of ocean looming up beyond the stretch of sandy beach. Following along the curve in the coast line, Jack found himself presently on the sh.o.r.e of a small land-locked bay. The mouth of the inlet was barely wide enough to permit the pa.s.sage of a good-sized vessel.

But neither s.h.i.+p nor human being was in sight.

"Might be one of the secret pa.s.sageways used by the undersea boats,"

Jack mused as he followed the curving line of the bay away from the ocean.

Presently he came to an abrupt halt at a break in the beach where the rolling sand dunes fell sheer away to the mouth of another waterway---this time a small stream that wound its way inland through a tortuous channel. It was no more than two hundred feet across.

Jack realized this must be one of the ca.n.a.ls with which the coast was known to be ribboned. For a moment he stood in contemplation of the sight. Now he was more than ever convinced that he had stumbled into a U-boat base. The love of adventure gripped him and he determined to press on.