The Moving Picture Boys on the War Front Part 10

"Take your places! Take your places!" he cried.

"Not yet!" answered Joe. "We want to get a shot at her first!"

"But, young gentlemen, you must not shoot with that. It will be ineffectual! Let the gunners do their work, I beg of you. Take your places at the boats!"

"That's all right!" exclaimed Blake "We're only going to shoot some moving pictures."

"Ah, what brave rashness!" murmured the French officer, as he hurried away.

Blake and Joe, with Charlie to steady the machine, for the steamer was now zigzagging at high speed in an effort to escape the expected torpedo, were taking pictures of the approach of the submarine. The underwater craft was still coming on, her periscope in the midst of a hail of fire from the steamer's guns. For, now that the vessel was making turns, it was possible for two gun crews, alternately, to fire at the German boat.

"There goes the periscope!" yelled Charlie, as a burst of shots, concentrated on the bra.s.s tube, seemed to dispose of it.

But he had spoken too soon. The submarine had merely drawn the periscope within herself, it being of the telescope variety, and the next moment, with a movement of the water as if some monster leviathan were breaking from the ocean depths, the steel-plated and rivet-studded back of the submarine rose, glistening in the sun and in full view of those on deck, not two hundred yards away.

"There she blows!" cried Charlie, as an old salt might announce the presence of a whale. "There she blows! Film her, boys!"

And Blake and Joe were doing just that.

Meanwhile even wilder excitement, if possible, prevailed on deck. There was a rush for the boats that nearly overwhelmed the crews stationed to lower them from the sides, and the officers had all they could do to preserve order.

"The torpedo! The torpedo at the stern!" cried the lookout, who, notwithstanding his position of almost certain death should the ship be struck, had not deserted his elevated post. "They have loosed a torpedo at the stern!"

Blake and Joe, who were well aft, looked for a moment away from the submarine, and saw a line of bubbles approaching the stern and a ripple that indicated the presence of that dread engine of war--an air-driven torpedo.

And as if the ship herself knew what doom awaited her should the torpedo so much as touch her, she increased her speed, and to such good purpose that the ma.s.s of gun-cotton, contained in the steel cylinder that had been launched from the submarine, pa.s.sed under the stern. But only a few feet from the rudder did it pa.s.s. By such a little margin was the ship saved.

And then, having a broader mark at which to aim, the gunners sent a perfect hail of lead and sh.e.l.ls at the underwater boat, and with such effect that some hits were made. Whether or not they were vital ones it was impossible to learn, for there was a sudden motion to the submarine, which had been quietly resting on the surface for a moment, and then she slipped beneath the waves again.

"Driven off!" cried Blake, as he and Joe got the final pictures of this drama--a drama that had come so near being a tragedy. "They've beaten her off!"

"But we're not safe yet!" cried Charlie. "She may shoot another torpedo at us from under water--she can do that, all right! Look out, boys!"

There was need of this, yet it was impossible to do more toward saving one's life than to take to the boats. And even that, under the inhuman and ruthless system of the Huns, was no guarantee that one would be saved. Lifeboats had, more than once, been sh.e.l.led by Germans.

The appearance of the submarine had added to the panic caused by the sight of the periscope, and there was a rush for the boats that took all the power and authority of the officers to manage it.

There was a period of anxious waiting, but either the submarine had no other torpedoes, or, if she did fire any, they went wide, or, again, the gunfire from the vessel may have disabled her entirely. She did not again show herself above the surface. Even the periscope was not observed.

Having nothing to picture, Blake and Joe turned away from the camera for a moment. Some of the lifeboats had already been filled with their loads when Charlie, pointing to something afar off, cried:

"Here comes another boat!"

On the horizon a dense cloud of black smoke showed.

CHAPTER IX

SUSPICIONS

For a moment there was more terror and excitement aboard the _Jeanne_, if it were possible, after it became certain that another craft, the nature of which none knew, was headed toward the French steamer. Then an officer gifted with sound common-sense, cried out in English, so that the majority could understand:

"It is a destroyer! It is a destroyer belonging to the Stars and Stripes coming to our rescue. Three cheers!"

n.o.body gave the three cheers, but it heartened every one to hear them called for, and the real meaning of the smoke was borne to all.

"Of course it can't be a submarine!" exclaimed Blake. "They don't send out any smoke, and there aren't any other German boats at sea. It's a destroyer!"

"One of ours, do you think?" asked Charlie.

"Perhaps. Uncle Sam has a lot of 'em over here to act as convoys.

Probably this is our escort coming up a little late to the ball," said Joe.

"But we did very well by ourselves," observed Blake. "It was a narrow squeak, though."

And indeed it was a narrow escape. The _Jeanne_ had, unaided, driven off the undersea boat, and perhaps had damaged her by the rain of shot and sh.e.l.l poured at her steel sides. They could not feel sure of this, though, for the approach of the destroyer was probably known to the submarine, for they have underwater telephones which tell them, by means of the throbbing of the screws and propellers in the water, just about how far away another ship is, and what speed she is making, as well as the direction from which she is coming.

Whether the submarine had expended her last torpedo, or whether having missed what she intended for a vital shot she deemed there was not time to launch another and had sunk out of sight, or whether she were disabled, were questions perhaps never to be answered.

At any rate, the approach of the destroyer, which came on with amazing speed, served to make the _Jeanne_ comparatively safe. The lifeboats were emptied of their pa.s.sengers, and once more there was a feeling of comparative safety as the pa.s.sengers again thronged the decks.

On came the destroyer. She proved to be one of Uncle Sam's boats, and the joy with which she was greeted was vociferous and perhaps a little hysterical. She had learned by wireless of the appearance of the French craft in the danger zone, and had come to fulfill her mission. She had been delayed by a slight accident, or she would have been on hand when the submarine first approached.

The wireless message that had come just as the German craft appeared had been from the destroyer, to bid those aboard the _Jeanne_ have no fear, for help was on the way. And soon after the grim and swift craft from the United States had begun to slide along beside the _Jeanne_ two more destroyers, one of them British, made their appearance, coming up with the speed of ocean greyhounds.

There was great rejoicing among the pa.s.sengers, and much credit was given the lookout for his promptness in reporting a sight of the submarine. Formal thanks were extended to the gun crews for their efficient work, without which the undersea boat might have accomplished her purpose. Nor were the boiler room and engineer forces forgotten, for it was because of the sudden burst of speed on the part of the _Jeanne_ that she escaped that one torpedo at least.

"Now we'll be all right," Charlie said, as he helped his friends make a few pictures of the approach and the convoying of the destroyers to add to the views they had of the submarine and her defeat--temporary defeat it might prove, but, none the less, a defeat.

"Well, hardly all right," remarked Blake, as the camera was dismounted.

"We're still in the danger zone, and the Huns won't let slip any chance to do us harm. But I guess we have more of a chance for our white alley than we had before."

Though the French ship was now protected by the three convoying vessels, the crews of which kept a sharp watch on all sides for the presence of more submarines, there was still plenty of danger, and this was felt by all.

At any moment a submarine, approaching below the surface with only her periscope showing--and this made a mark exceedingly hard to see and hit--might launch a torpedo, not only at the merchant-man but at one of the destroyers.

"It's like sleeping over a case of dynamite," observed Joe, as he and his chums went below. "I'd rather be on the war front. You can at least see and hear sh.e.l.ls coming."

"That's right," agreed Blake. "Well, if nothing happens, we'll soon be there now."

"_If_ is a big word these days," observed Charlie.

"Now that we're comparatively safe for the moment, I want to ask you fellows something," said Blake, after a pause.

"Ask ahead," returned Joe. "If you want to know whether I was scared, I'll say I was, but I was too busy getting pictures to notice it. If it is something else----"