CHAPTER XV
THE HUMAN TORPEDO
"Looks as though we were up against it," remarked Executive OfficerCleary to his chief as the _Dewey's_ engines died down into silence.
Lieutenant McClure, his youthful face wrinkled in deep thought, lookedup apprehensively.
"A very serious situation," he mumbled.
He spoke with marked gravity now, and there was no response from theexecutive officer, nor from Navigating Officer Binns, as they stoodquietly and rigidly at attention, awaiting orders.
Inquiry in the engine room brought the information that the batterieshad been greatly depleted by the tremendous exertions of the _Dewey_.The supply of "juice" certainly could not last much longer.
What next? Instinctively every man aboard the doomed ship was askinghimself the question. It was only too manifest that the _Dewey_ hadrun hard aground. The best that could be hoped for now was that theshifting currents of the sea might wash the submarine free beforedeath overwhelmed her imprisoned crew.
"Make yourselves as comfortable as possible; we are not done foryet---not by a jugful," essayed McClure bravely as he sauntered intothe torpedo room where Chief Gunner Mowrey and his men were assembledin hushed discussion of the _Dewey's_ plight.
Immediately "Little Mack" was surrounded by his men. They asked himall manner of questions.
"Remember first, last, and always that you are Americans and membersof the United States Navy," continued their commanding officer. "Wehave air supply in the reserve tanks sufficient to stay here for manyhours yet without danger of suffocation; and in the meantime quite anumber of things can happen."
Despite their commander's cheery remarks there was little comfort inhis words. Trusting implicitly their gallant chief, every man aboardthe stranded submarine was keenly alive to the seriousness of thesituation and mentally figuring on the possibilities of escape fromthe prison ship in case it was found at last impossible to floatthe vessel. The boys knew their dauntless commander, in a finalextremity, would resort to heroic measures of escape rather thanallow his men to be suffocated and overwhelmed by a slow death intheir trap of steel.
It was now more than twelve hours since the _Dewey_ had submergedafter the exciting events of the preceding night and the air supplywas still sufficiently impregnated with oxygen to enable the imprisonedcrew to breathe free and normally. The boys knew that the _Dewey_could continue thus for at least thirty-six hours before her officerswould commence drawing on the reserve oxygen tanks.
In an atmosphere of suspense the long afternoon dragged into evening.Every effort to free the vessel had been tried, but to no avail.Evening mess was served amid an oppressive silence varied only bythe valiant efforts of bluff Bill Witt to stir a bit of confidencein his mates. Another and final effort to get away was to be triedat midnight with high tide. And then---if nothing availed---the boysknew full well that with the morning Lieutenant McClure would resortto some drastic measures.
Efforts at sleep were futile for the most part, although dauntlessspirits like Bill Witt and Mike Mowrey turned in as usual and dozedaway as peacefully as though no danger existed. Midnight and hightide kindled fresh hopes as "Little Mack" steeled himself for a lasttry with the _Dewey's_ hardworked engines. Jack and Ted had spentthe long evening in the wireless room with Sammy Smith, hearing notso much as a trace of a passing vessel. Eagerly they awaited thelast herculean effort for freedom. At ten minutes to one the engineswere set in motion again and the signal given to back away as before.Lieutenant McClure had resorted to the expedient of shiftingeverything movable within the _Dewey_ to the bow bulkhead in thehope that the submarine might be tilted forward at the suprememoment. Now he ordered every man aboard ship, except the engineeringforce necessary to operate the engines, into the torpedo chamberforward.
"Whirr-r-r!" the roar of machinery reverberated throughout the hold.The _Dewey_ struggled again in mad convulsion---but all to no avail.The shifted cargo of humans and equipment made no difference; thesubmersible remained fast.
There now was no doubt of the _Dewey's_ serious dilemma. No spokenword was necessary to impress upon the men the critical situation.Sleep was out of the question. Jack rambled into the wireless room,where he tried to calm his restless spirits by rattling away on thekey at the code alphabet. Lately he had been giving much attentionto mastering the operation of the wireless apparatus and under thedirection of Sammy Smith had been making excellent progress.
He nervously fitted the microphone receivers to his ears---and thenext moment sat bolt upright. He was startled to hear the clickingsound in the listeners that indicated the proximity of a moving vessel.
"Quick! Listen here!" he called out to Sammy Smith. The wirelesschief dashed down the receivers and hurried to find Lieutenant Mcclure.
"Ship approaching from the southwest," said Smith hurriedly. "Comingup the coast and apparently about two miles away."
"Little Mack" adjusted the receivers and stood listening to therevolving propellers of the craft that approached and passed overhead.For a moment he debated the idea of releasing a torpedo that mightbe noticed by the crew of the unknown vessel. But such a plan wasnot feasible, for the ship would think only of being attacked andwould stand ready to repel an enemy rather than look for a submarinein distress. Furthermore, such an expedient was out of the question;for, gazing at his watch, he found that it was only four o'clock andhardly light enough for a torpedo to be seen unless it passed veryclose to the oncoming ship.
"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 situationthat demands some prompt action. That vessel up there may be anAmerican or British destroyer. It is up to us to find out whilethere 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 theirattention. The thing has been done before and I'm perfectly willingto take a chance."
"Your proposal is in good faith, boy," interrupted his commander, "butit strikes me as a foolhardy proposition. We are down here more thaneighty feet and, even though you got up to the surface, the chancesof your gaining the attention of that vessel are mighty slim."
Jack stepped forward eagerly. "It has been done before and I'm willingto take that chance," he urged. "If we stay here we are done for.Unless we find some way of floating the _Dewey_ within the nexttwenty-four hours we've all got to take our chances on getting out ofhere. Let me go now. It might as well be now as later on. We'vegot to act quickly."
For a moment Mcclure stood motionless surveying the intrepid youngster.It seemed such a desperate chance, and yet, under the circumstances,something had to be done.
"You are a brave boy, Jack," said Mcclure finally, springing forwardand grasping the hand of his aide. "If you are willing I'll let youdo it, for, under the circumstances, we are forced to resort to someheroic measures. God bless you, lad! And now let react quickly."
In short order the entire party repaired to the torpedo room forwardwhere Jack was to attempt his hazardous experiment. Taking off hiscoat and shoes, which he fastened around his neck, Jack stood readyfor the ordeal. Mike Mowrey had opened the upper port chamber andwith the aid of his crew run out the torpedo that had been placedtherein ready for firing. All was in readiness for the youth to crawlthrough the breech cap and stretch himself out like a human torpedo.
Lieutenant Mcclure was sure that the prow of the _Dewey_ lay freeof the sand bar on which the vessel was poised, and that there wasno obstruction in front of the bowcap. But to make doubly sure heordered the discharge of a torpedo from the lower starboard chamber.It left the bowcap free and with full power, giving assurance thatno 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 tohis old Brighton chum. For a few seconds the two boys gazed fullinto each other's eyes, their hands clasped in a fare
well.
"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 andthen inserted his head in the mouth of the torpedo tube, motioningwith his hands for his comrades to thrust him into the chamber.
Brighton Boys with the Submarine Fleet Page 15
