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Brighton Boys in the Radio Service, The

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<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> <h3>The Periscope at Dawn</h3> That night the boys had ample evidence that they were inside the submarine zone, where anything might happen at any minute. Not a light was permitted on any of the ships, and they traveled along in the most peculiar fashion and over the most irregular course, never going at more than half speed and not more than a mile or so without a complete change of direction. For no apparent reason whatever the engines would slow down and entirely stop, and in that position they would remain for ten, fifteen, twenty minutes or even half an hour, and then start up again on another tack. "I believe we've become separated from our convoy," said Slim, who had been upon deck, and now entered the wireless room where Joe and Jerry were watching Lieutenant Mackinson make some readjustments of the wireless mechanism. "The pilot doesn't seem to know the course. Say, wouldn't it be great sport if we should be lost from the others? But I wonder why the captain does not wireless them?" "No need," Lieutenant Mackinson assured him, "for we are not lost, nor are we separated from them. Every vessel in this fleet is simply carrying out a program secretly arranged long in advance, and which was in the nature of a sealed order which the various captains did not open until this morning. "I dare say that our convoy is as near us now as at any time during the voyage, and that it is maintaining the same position at all times, going through the exact maneuvers that the Everett is performing." "It is to fool the submarines?" asked Joe. "Exactly," the lieutenant replied. "Our government is taking every precaution, and no unnecessary risks. You see, there is no way of keeping absolutely secret the departure of our transports. Nor is there any assurance that the information does not go directly to the German authorities, and from them to the commanders of the submarines. Our actions are designed to prevent them from estimating our course or position. "It was their knowledge of that fact, and their determination to learn our whereabouts in another way, which doubtless led to that spy being aboard this transport. I feel——" Suddenly the lieutenant ceased speaking, and all four, as of one accord, sprang toward the radio instruments. "Listen!" Lieutenant Mackinson commanded, as he jammed the headpiece over his ears. "SOS"—the most tragic of all the calls of the sea, was coming to them as a frantic appeal sent out through the air to any and all who might hear and respond. "SOS," the lieutenant wrote down hurriedly as the message came through space. And then: <div class="blockquot">"American—Memphis—submarine pursuing—53½ lat.—17 W. lon.—running fifteen knots three points south of west." </div> The entire message was repeated, and then there was silence—the dense and seemingly impenetrable silence that had existed before. Came the nearer and more powerful crackle of the radio. "One of our destroyers is replying," Lieutenant Mackinson announced, and one by one he jotted down the words: <div class="blockquot">"Continue same direction. U. S. destroyer be with you in about two hours." </div> "Understand you," the return message came back a moment later. "Submarine still on stern. Has fired two shots, but both missed." It was a thrilling moment for the boys from Brighton. Out there in the blackness of the night an American fighting craft was separating itself from the rest of the fleet to run full speed to the assistance of a helpless merchantman, and, if possible, to do battle with the enemy U-boat. For an hour and a half they sat there, speculating as to the possible outcome. "I'd give a month's pay to be aboard that destroyer," exclaimed Jerry enviously. "That's the sort of excitement I like. Just imagine coming up to that merchantman just in time to save her from destruction, and then having a regular battle with the submarine, and finally watching her sink, with a shell hole torn in her side!" "Yes," added Slim, "and imagine being aboard that merchantman, with a shell hole torn in her side before the destroyer arrives!" "It's pretty cold swimming on a night like this," said Joe. "I've tried it, and I know." Lieutenant Mackinson, still seated before the wireless instrument, signaled them for quiet again. Another message was coming through space. It was in code, but was one that was easy for the lieutenant to translate, for he had heard it before. <div class="blockquot">"Submarine disappeared. Returning to fleet. Convoying Memphis." </div> "Go on deck, keep your eyes busy off the port bow, and you may see something interesting," the lieutenant told them. Following the suggestion they went above and had stood there for perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes when suddenly the lookout in the crow's nest sang out: "Destroyer approaching, two points off the port bow." Almost at the same instant there loomed out of the dense darkness a faint light, apparently miles away. For a moment they would see it, and then it would be gone, only to reappear again, another time to be extinguished. But obviously all the time it was coming nearer. They noted, too, that a similar process was being enacted by the cruiser in the lead. "What does it mean?" asked Slim. "The destroyer is just using another sort of wireless," Joe explained. "She is blinking her identity to the fleet, and the cruiser out there is signaling recognition." The next time the destroyer signaled she was almost abreast of them, but about two miles away to the north. Her message then could be read by all the boys. The words it spelled out, however, were a complete riddle: <div class="blockquot">"Love—sky—sand—curtain—run." </div> It was not for several hours that they learned that the captain of the destroyer had flashed a message that he would convoy the Memphis several miles further westward, and then rejoin the others, and that the fleet commander, in flashing back "bundle," had given his O. K., with an admonition for speed. There being no further necessity for the spy watch which had been maintained on the previous night, the boys drew lots to determine which one should do duty until morning in the wireless room, and it fell to Joe. But the first faint gray streaks were hardly painting the eastern sky when Jerry and Slim, unable to sleep longer, came out upon deck to take for themselves a general survey of the danger zone. "What's that?" cried Slim suddenly, staring off over the stern of the Everett. "Smoke!" echoed Jerry, excitedly. "Yes, smoke from the stack of the destroyer," said Joe, who had come up behind them without being heard. "We just got her signal a moment ago." "How far do you suppose she is away?" asked Slim. They were speculating upon the distance between the two vessels, when Slim, speechless for the moment, pointed to what seemed to be little more than a dark speck on the water about a mile astern and to the west of them—for at that time their zig-zag course pointed them almost due north. "Submarine approaching astern!" sang out the man in the crow's nest. It was as though the startling message had been megaphoned to every man aboard the Everett. At the same time the cruiser of the fleet began maneuvering herself between where the periscope showed the submarine to be and the transport itself. Almost simultaneously the U-boat came to the surface and one of the big guns on the cruiser belched forth a shell that apparently fell a short distance the other side of the submarine. The U-boat itself let loose a shot, and with such accuracy that only the sudden maneuver of the transport at that instant saved it from being hit. By this time the decks of the Everett were crowded with the khaki-clad soldiers of Uncle Sam whom the Germans were trying to prevent from getting into the trenches by sending them to the bottom of the Atlantic. The cruiser had headed straight for the U-boat, while the destroyer was coming up behind it with even greater speed. For some reason that never will be known the commander of the submarine had ignored the destroyer entirely, although it was difficult to imagine that he had not seen it. The general supposition later aboard the Everett was that something had happened to his batteries and he was unable to submerge. "Hurrah!" shouted hundreds of men on the Everett in unison as the torpedo-boat destroyer opened fire. And the aim of her gunners was deadly! for just as the U-boat began to submerge, one of the big projectiles from the destroyer hit her squarely amidships. There was a terrific explosion, the stern of the undersea craft was lifted upward, clear of the water, she stuck her nose into the briny deep, and without another second's delay, dove to the bottom, a wreck. As the tremendous pressure of the water crushed in her air tanks, great bubbles rose to the surface and broke, causing rippling waves to roll outward in increasingly large circles. Then a flood of oil came to the surface of the sea, and the final evidence of the tragedy was obliterated. <hr class="major" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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