The Brighton Boys with the Submarine Fleet Part 14

"Did they try anything rough on you?" put in Jack.

"No," continued Ted, "they were so thankful to be in that boat instead of floundering in the sea they didn't care much about anything else.

When we told them our vessel was somewhere close by they wouldn't believe it until we showed them the faint streaks of light from the _Dewey_ through the fog. Then Bill Witt told them they would stand a better chance for their lives if they got in touch with the American submarine. They parleyed a while over that and finally decided they would take Bill's tip. That's how we got up within range of you fellows and got back here again. We might have floated around all night and been picked up in the morning and then again we might not."

"Well, I'm glad you're back again, chum," added Jack with an affectionate hug. He now hurried back to the conning tower to be within call of his commanders. The _Dewey_ was headed due east; running on the surface, with her boatload of prisoners trailing behind.

Two hours' running brought the _Dewey_ within the ten-mile zone of the Dutch coast, and suddenly she ran into the hail of a huge brigantine that appeared to be becalmed. She lay quiet in the water without a tangible sign of life except her binnacle lights.

Watchful against any deception, McClure ordered the gun crews on deck and the "Twins" ready for action. Then he challenged the sailing craft.

The answer came in German. Likely the watch thought his vessel had been approached by a U-boat of the Central Powers. Challenged again in English, the fellow went below and returned in a moment with an English-speaking companion. Lieutenant McClure briefly made known his desire to turn over the German prisoners.

"But we don't want them," came the reply.

Jack and Ted, standing out on deck together, grinned. This seemed so unlike Dutch hospitality.

"Holland doesn't seem to be so fond of Germans, does she?" joked Jack.

"Can't much blame them," Ted replied soberly. "They have enough mouths of their own to feed without any more outsiders."

Lieutenant McClure insisted, however, on putting the Germans aboard the brigantine and finally won out. The lifeboat went alongside and the _Dewey_ stood by until every Teuton had climbed up the side.

"Auf Wiedersehen and thank you, sir," called the German officer as the _Dewey_ backed away and turned her nose out to sea again.

The days that followed were crowded with colorful incidents for the band of Americans aboard the gallant little submarine. With the arrival of Uncle Sam's submarines in the North Sea and their active partic.i.p.ation in the warfare against the Imperial German Navy the forages of the cruiser and destroyer raiders out of Wilhelmshaven and other German ports were decreasing in number.

The Belgian coast is but forty-two miles long, extending from Zeebrugge at the northern extremity to Ostend---the Atlantic City of Belgium---at the south, but there are a number of tiny harbors along the strip of coastline, and these were infested by the light draft German warships, particularly the destroyers. The American submarines in particular were directing their attention toward these destroyers and seeking to kill them off as they dashed out of their "fox holes" for flying attacks against the allied navies.

One night, after a quiet day on patrol off the Belgian coast, the _Dewey_ settled for the night close to sh.o.r.e at a point about five miles southwest of the Belgian coast town of Blankenberghe, a tiny fishing port with a small and almost land-locked harbor. It was a strategic position directly on the course that would be taken by German destroyers out of Zeebrugge bound for a raid off Dunkirk or Calais. Lying under the sea, the _Dewey_ could hear approaching vessels.

Furthermore, Lieutenant McClure had reason to believe that German destroyers were making a rendezvous of the little harbor of Blankenberghe. He was determined to find out and to "get somebody."

Jack was on duty in the conning tower and Executive Officer Cleary in the control chamber underneath. Floating here at a depth of one hundred and ten feet the _Dewey_ was to spend the night resting and with a vigilant ear for any pa.s.sing vessels.

Thousands of miles from home, more then a hundred feet deep down in the North Sea, bottled up in a submarine while the rest of his churns slept peacefully as though at home in their beds, the Brighton boy sat alone in the conning tower of the submerged _Dewey_.

"Some difference between where I am now and where I was a year ago this time!" he was reflecting, when he heard the night wireless operator reporting to Executive Officer Cleary the approach of a vessel overhead.

Jack descended into the control chamber and, at Officer Cleary's direction, called Lieutenant McClure, who had turned in for several hours' rest, leaving instructions that he be aroused in case any ships were reported overhead.

CHAPTER XIV

ON THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA

Listening for a few moments at the microphones, McClure turned abruptly and rang the crew to quarters.

The engine room was signaled to tune up the motors.

"From the way that fellow is hugging the coast I wouldn't be surprised if he is a Hun raider poking along on a little reconnaissance,"

observed McClure to his executive officer.

Aroused from his slumber, Sammy Smith took charge of the electrical receiving room and after listening for awhile gave his opinion that the approaching ship was moving south along the Belgian coast and distant from the _Dewey_ about a mile and a half. From the faint registrations in the microphones he judged it to be a vessel of light draft---probably a small cruiser or a destroyer.

"Well, we never lose an opportunity to do our duty, be the enemy large or small fry," observed McClure.

After waiting for a few moments longer, and being advised of the continued steady approach of the ship, the young lieutenant decided to move in closer to get within better range, and then rise to the surface and "look her over." It was well on toward four o'clock and soon would be daylight.

Creeping along at half speed, the _Dewey_ veered slightly to starboard and steered a course N.N.W. toward the oncoming craft. After cruising thus for a quarter of an hour the submarine was stopped altogether again and her captain conferred again with his wireless chief.

"She seems to have changed her course," announced Smith after listening intently at both port and starboard microphones. "As near as I can calculate she has turned off abruptly to port and is running due east toward the coast."

"Fine!" exclaimed McClure. "A German for sure. And now perhaps we can track her to her lair."

In a few moments the _Dewey_ thrust her periscopes up out of the sea and set out in pursuit of the unknown ship. It was yet too dark to make her out, except for a dim blur that showed faintly against the background of the Belgian coast. By striking the _Dewey's_ lat.i.tude and longitude they figured they were at a point five or six miles off Blankenberghe.

"Where do you suppose she is heading for?" asked Cleary. He was plainly puzzled.

"There probably is a ca.n.a.l near at hand that the Germans have dug out since their occupation of Belgium, and which they now are using as a retreat for their light draft vessels---possibly a submarine base,"

answered McClure.

For a time the _Dewey_ followed steadily on in the wake of the German.

It was not long until McClure, at the forward periscope, was able to get a better look at the foe.

"A big destroyer," he announced. "I can make out her four funnels."

It was now apparent to the lieutenant that they were approaching close to the coast and that very shortly the destroyer must turn again to the sea or else take her way into some tortuous channel leading inland.

"Reckon we have gone as far as we can," he declared after a further observation. He had in mind the fact that the approach to the waterway for which the destroyer was headed most certainly was mined and that without a chart of the course he was running the risk of driving into one of the dangerous buoys.

He determined to chance a shot at the destroyer, submerge and go out to sea again. Sighting on the dimly outlined destroyer he released a torpedo and then, without waiting to observe the result of the random shot, gave the signal to dive.

Down went the _Dewey_. And in another moment, as the gallant sub slipped away into the depths, she lurched suddenly with a staggering motion and brought up sharp with an impact that shook the vessel from stem to stern. Officer Cleary was catapulted off his feet and crashed into the steel conning tower wall, with an exclamation of pain.

The _Dewey_ seemed to have run hard against an undersea wall.

"Reverse the engine!" shouted McClure. "We must have run upon a sandy shoal."

Frantically he rang the engine room to back away. But the order came too late. With a slow ringing noise that plainly bespoke the grating of the ship's keel on the bed of the ocean the submarine slid forward and then came to a dead stop, quivering in every steel plate from the tremendous throbbing of her engines.

"Great Scott, we've run aground!" exclaimed McClure as he stood wild-eyed in the conning tower.

Jack was despatched to the engine room for a report from Chief Engineer Blaine. He returned in a moment to say that the ship's engines were reversed and the propeller shafts revolving to the limit of the ship's power. Nevertheless, it was only too evident that the _Dewey_ was enmeshed in a treacherous shoal from which she was unable to extricate herself.

Officer Binns was ordered to throw off all possible ballast.

One by one the tanks were emptied. The air pumps were working valiantly but at each discharge of water ballast the officers of the stranded vessel waited in vain for the welcome "lift" that would tell them the ship was floating free again. The last ballast tank had now been emptied and the depth dial still showed eighty-four feet.