Dave Darrin and the German Submarines Part 28

"Chermany cannot be vip'," insisted the prisoner. "Chermany, she alvays fight! Blenty in dis var. Den, ven der var stop, she begin get ready again, she get ready again to fight der negst var. Chermany cannot be vip', but Ameriga shall down mit her knees go, und Chermany shall says vords dot Ameriga does not like to hear. You vait, you see! Chermany is der von real fighting gountry of der vorld. Not all der rest of der vorld can vip her! It cannot be done. Chermany over all!"

"And that's the whole story, from a German point of view," Dave muttered in an undertone. "This fellow looks stupid, but his leaders are just about as stupid. Isn't it a waste of time to talk with him, Danny?"

"I'm afraid it is," Dalzell nodded. "But this is the first chance I have had to get a German's real view of the war. This fellow is too stupid to conceal anything, so he has told me the truth as he sees it. Yet, as you say, Dave, it's the whole story, and he cannot tell me any more than he has told if I should question him from now until midnight."

Then, to a petty officer:

"Take these fellows below and lock them in the brig. Place a guard over them. See that they have the usual ship ration, and see that sufficient fresh water is offered them at all times. It's warm in the brig, so they can take off their clothes until the garments are dry."

Stolidly the pair marched along, out of sight and hearing.

"'Chermany over all! Chermany must rule der vorld,'" Dan mimicked.

"We've got their number, David, little giant. Uncle Sam and his international friends will have to kill, cripple or lock up most of the men of Germany before we can hope to knock the foolishness out of their heads."

"Which we'll proceed to do so thoroughly," quoth Dave Darrin, "that, hereafter, not even a German head will be capable of holding such foolishness as they now talk!"

CHAPTER XVIII

DANNY GRIN PROVES HIS METTLE

With her boats secure, and all hands, including the recent "lady pa.s.sengers," on board once more without loss, the battered-looking "Prince" turned on her way.

All that day she sailed, yet found no submarine confiding enough to rise and take a chance at her shabby-looking hull.

"Of course there is one big chance you have to take," said Darry, at dinner in the ward-room that night, "and that is the danger that a submarine will think this old hulk worthy of sinking by means of a torpedo."

"No sub will shoot a torpedo at us," rejoined Dalzell, "if she once gets a look at us. A torpedo costs a small fortune, while a sh.e.l.l or two cost nothing by comparison. The idea in sending out a trap-craft like the 'Prince' is that no German naval officer would think of throwing away a torpedo on her."

"Of course," Dave admitted, "the greatest danger is that a German sh.e.l.l, fired above water, will cripple you and put you out of business."

"It's a sporting chance, to be sure," Dan admitted.

"If your engines were stopped by a sh.e.l.l, and you couldn't maneuver for position, and therefore couldn't use your guns, and a German submarine crew took you prisoners, the sight of your guns would insure that all hands on board would die painful but sure deaths."

"It's that sporting element of risk that makes the game so pleasant,"

Dan retorted.

His junior officers chuckled.

"I'm glad you all take it the way you do," was Dave's cordial rejoinder.

"It adds a lot to your chances of success."

"And just what do you think our chances are?" Dan pressed home. At this the junior officers listened eagerly, for Darrin's sound judgment was fast becoming a tradition in the Navy.

"Your chances," Dave declared, "are that you probably will sink several submarines. Then, one of these days, you'll either get the unlooked-for torpedo, or else you'll meet a master in strategy or gunfire, and you'll go to the bottom-and another bright plan will be given up by the Allies.

But I hope you'll do a huge lot of damage before the probable end comes."

That night the "Prince" prowled the seas, and when Darrin awoke in the morning she was headed toward her home port, that time might not be wasted to the westward of the locality where German submarines were likely to operate against merchantmen.

Nor had Dave taken more than one look overboard before he discovered that the "Prince" now lay much lower in the water.

"Our water ballast tanks are filled," Dan explained. "That gives us the appearance of being heavily loaded, as with American wheat, for instance."

"Soldiers, wheat and ammunition are the things the Germans most enjoy sending to the bottom," Dave nodded. "Really, it is too bad that this seeming old tub doesn't look good enough to carry troops."

"Oh, I think that even as a cargo tramp we'll draw the fire of any submarine whose commander gets a glimpse of us," Dan replied.

Within ten minutes after he had said it a submarine rose, fifteen hundred yards away, and, without firing, signalled to the "Prince" to lie to.

Almost instantly "Abandon ship" shrieked from the steam whistle, and the early performance of the day before was gone through with. After the boats had started away, bearing sailors and men and "women" pa.s.sengers, the submarine came up closer.

All in a jiffy the ports were opened and all three sh.e.l.ls from the starboard battery landed in the enemy hull. There was no fight after that, the submersible sinking before any of the crew could get clear to save themselves.

"Do you begin to see the joke?" demanded Danny Grin, grimly. "Are you prepared to join in the laugh at the Germans?"

"If the 'Prince' continues her good work for a fortnight," smiled Dave Darrin, "the ocean will be a lot safer place for American troopships."

"I'm beginning to feel," Dan remarked, "that I can highly endorse the intelligence of those who sent me out on this errand."

"The errand is a good one, anyway," Darrin laughed, teasingly.

The rest of the day pa.s.sed without other incident than the appearance of two destroyers, one British and one American. Each of these war craft signalled to ask if convoy were desired, to which Dan signalled a courteous, "No, thank you."

"Won't those chaps feel sold when they learn, if they ever do, what kind of an outfit they wanted to protect?" Dan chuckled.

Just before dawn, next morning, Dalzell was roused from a nap and called to the bridge.

"Gun-fire dead ahead, sir," reported Ensign Stark. "Don't you make out the flashes, sir?"

"Yes," nodded Dalzell, after he had taken and used the proffered gla.s.s.

"Some one is catching it, but is the victim a steamship, or is it a submarine that some destroyer has overhauled? Oh, for just sixty seconds I'd like to have our wireless rigged!"

Ensign Stark had already ordered the speed increased, and so reported, but Danny Grin, as he heard the firing, seized the engine-room telephone and ordered all speed possible crowded on.

Thus he swept along, without lights, until within a mile of the bright-red flashes, which he could now see without the aid of a gla.s.s.

At this point speed was reduced to eight knots and the "Prince" moved along more moderately.

"What is it ahead?" asked Dave Darrin, who had just turned out and come briskly up to the bridge.

"It's a one-sided fight," Dan answered, "but I don't know the kind of craft. Undoubtedly one is a submarine. She can't have been very seriously hit, either, or the firing would be ended."

"You have a searchlight?"