The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Boy Allies with the Victorious Fleets by Robert L. Drake This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The Boy Allies with the Victorious Fleets The Fall of the German Navy Author: Robert L. Drake Release Date: January 7, 2005 [EBook #14626] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY ALLIES *** Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team The Boy Allies With the Victorious Fleets OR The Fall of the German Navy By ENSIGN ROBERT L. DRAKE AUTHOR OF "The Boy Allies With the Navy Series" The Boy Allies (Registered in the United States Patent Office) With the Navy Series By Ensign ROBERT L. DRAKE The Boy Allies on the North Sea Patrol or, Striking the First Blow at the German Fleet The Boy Allies Under Two Flags or, Sweeping the Enemy from the Sea. The Boy Allies with the Flying Squadron or, The Naval Raiders of the Great War. The Boy Allies with the Terror of the Seas or, The Last Shot of the Submarine D-16. The Boy Allies in the Baltic or, Through Fields of Ice to Aid the Czar. The Boy Allies at Jutland or, The Greatest Naval Battle in History. The Boys Allies Under the Sea or, The Vanishing Submarine. The Boy Allies with Uncle Sam's Cruisers or, Convoying the American Army Across the Atlantic. The Boy Allies with the Submarine D-32 or, The Fall of the Russian Empire. The Boy Allies with the Victorious Fleet or, The Fall of the German Navy. Copyright, 1919 By A.L. BURT COMPANY THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE VICTORIOUS FLEET CHAPTER I ABOARD U.S.S. PLYMOUTH CHAPTER II THE BOY CAPTAIN AND HIS LIEUTENANT CHAPTER III OFF FOR AMERICA CHAPTER IV THE START CHAPTER V A RESCUE CHAPTER VI CHANGED ORDERS CHAPTER VII A BIT OF EXPLANATION CHAPTER VIII THE ATTACK BEGINS CHAPTER IX THE BATTLE CONTINUES CHAPTER X THE RAID SUCCESSFUL CHAPTER XI THE WARNING GIVEN CHAPTER XII THE U-BOATS APPEAR CHAPTER XIII THE SUBMARINES GROW BOLDER CHAPTER XIV THE U-87 CHAPTER XV JACK GIVES CHASE CHAPTER XVI THE FIGHT ON THE U-87 CHAPTER XVII CAPTURE OF THE SUBMARINE CHAPTER XVIII ASHORE CHAPTER XIX IN THE NIGHT CHAPTER XX THE BATTLE CHAPTER XXI THE END OF THE SUBMARINE CHAPTER XXII WASHINGTON AGAIN CHAPTER XXIII BACK IN ENGLAND CHAPTER XXIV THE ENGAGEMENT CHAPTER XXV THE LAST SEA BATTLE CHAPTER XXVI THE END APPROACHES CHAPTER XXVII PREPARING FOR THE SURRENDER CHAPTER XXVIII THE SURRENDER CHAPTER XXIX THE SURRENDER COMPLETE CHAPTER XXX HOME AT LAST THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE VICTORIOUS FLEET CHAPTER I ABOARD U.S.S. PLYMOUTH "Sail at 4 a.m.," said Captain Jack Templeton of the U.S.S. Plymouth, laying down the long manila envelope marked "Secret." "Acknowledge by signal," he directed the ship's messenger, and then looked inquiringly about the wardroom table. "Aye, aye, sir," said the first officer, Lieutenant Frank Chadwick. "Ready at four, sir," said the engineer officer, Thomas; and left his dinner for a short trip to the engine room to push some belated repairs. "Send a patrol ashore to round up the liberty party," continued Captain Templeton, this time addressing the junior watch officer. "Tell them to be aboard at midnight instead of eight in the morning." "Aye, aye, sir," said the junior watch officer, and departed in haste. There was none of the bustle and confusion aboard the U.S.S. Plymouth, at that moment lying idle in a British port, that the landsman would commonly associate with sailing orders to a great destroyer. Blowers began to hum in the fire rooms. The torpedo gunner's mates slipped detonators in the warheads and looked to the rack load of depth charges. The steward made a last trip across to the depot ship. Otherwise, things ran on very much as before. At midnight the junior watch officer called the captain, who had turned in several hours earlier, and reported: "Liberty party all on board, sir." Then he turned in for a few hours' rest himself. The junior watch was astir again at three o'clock. He routed out a sleepy crew to hoist boats and secure for sea. Seven bells struck on the Plymouth. Captain Templeton appeared on the bridge. Lieutenant Chadwick was at his side, as were Lieutenants Shinnick and Craib, second and third officers respectively. Captain Templeton gave a command. The cable was slipped from the mooring buoy. Ports were darkened and the Plymouth slipped out. A bit inside the protection of the submarine nets, but just outside the channel, she lay to, breasting the flood tide. There she lay for almost an hour. "Coffee for the men," said Captain Templeton. The morning coffee was served on deck in the darkness. Lights appeared in the distance, and presently another destroyer joined the Plymouth. Running lights of two more appeared as the clock struck 4 a.m. Captain Templeton signalled the engine room for two-thirds speed ahead. Running lights were blanketed on the four destroyers, and the ships fell into column. Lieutenant Chadwick felt a drop on his face. He held out a hand. "Rain," he said briefly. Jack—Captain Templeton—nodded. "So much the better, Frank," he replied. The four destroyers cleared the channel light and spread out like a fan into line formation. "Full speed ahead!" came Jack's next command. The Plymouth leaped ahead, as did her sister ships on either side. "We're off," said Frank. Away they sped in the darkness, a division of four Yankee destroyers, tearing through the Irish sea on a rainy morning; Frank knew there were four ships in line, but all he could see was his guide, a black smudge in the darkness, a few ship lengths away on his port bow. Directly she was blotted from sight by a rain squall. "Running lights!" shouted Frank. The lights flashed. Frank kept an eye forward. Directly he got a return flash from the ship ahead, and then picked up her shape again. Morning dawned and still the fleet sped on. Toward noon the weather cleared. Officer and men kept their watches by regular turn during the day. At sundown the four destroyers slowed down and circled around in a slow column. The eyes of every officer watched the clock. They were watching for something. Directly it came—a line of other ships, transports filled with wounded soldiers returning to America. These must be safely convoyed to a certain point beyond the submarine zone by the Plymouth and her sister ships. On came the transports camouflaged like zebras. The Plymouth and the other destroyers fell into line on either side of the transports. "Full speed ahead," was Captain Templeton's signal to the engine room. "Take a look below, Frank," said Jack to his first officer. "Aye, aye, sir." Frank descended a manhole in the deck. He closed the cover and secured it behind him. At the foot of the ladder was a locked door. As it opened, came a pressure on Frank's ear drums like the air-lock of a caisson. Frank threaded his way amid pumps and feed water heaters and descended still further to the furnace level. Twenty-five knots—twenty-eight land miles an hour—was the speed of the Plymouth at that moment. It was good going. Below, instead of dust, heat, the clatter of shovels, grimy, sweating fireman, such as the thought of the furnace room of a ship of war calls to the mind of the landsman, a watertender stood calmly watching the glow of oil jets feeding the furnace fire. Now and then he cast an eye to the gauge glasses. The vibration of the hull and the hum of the blower were the only sounds below. For the motive power of the Plymouth was not furnished by coal. Rather, it was oil—crude petroleum—that drove the vessel along. And though oil has its advantage over coal, it has its disadvantages as well. It was Frank's first experience aboard an oil-burner, and he had not become used to it yet. He smelled oil in the smoke from the funnels, he breathed it from the oil range in the galley. His clothes gathered it from stanchions and rails. The water tanks were flavored with the seepage from neighboring compartments. Frank drank petroleum in the water and tasted it in the soup. The butter, he thought, tasted like some queer vaseline. But Frank knew that eventually he would get used to it. "How's she heading?" Frank asked of the chief engineer. "All right, sir," was the reply. "Everything perfectly trim. I can get more speed if necessary." Frank smiled. "Let's hope it won't be necessary, chief," he replied. He inspected the room closely for some moments, then returned to the bridge and reported to Captain Templeton. The sea was rough, but nevertheless the speed of the flotilla was not slackened. It was the desire of Captain Petlow, in charge of the destroyer fleet, to convoy the transports beyond the danger point at the earliest possible moment. The Plymouth lurched up on top of a crest, then dived head-first into the trough. On the bridge the heave and pitch of the vessel was felt subconsciously, but the eyes and minds of the officers were busied with other things. At every touch of the helm the vessel vibrated heavily. Eight bells struck. "Twelve o'clock," said Frank. "Time to eat." The bridge was turned over to the second officer, and Frank and Jack went below. "Eat is right, Frank," said Jack as they sat down. "We can't dine in this weather." It was true. The rolling boards, well enough for easy weather, proved a mockery in a sea like the one that raged now. Butter balls, meat and vegetables shot from plates and went sailing about. It was necessary to drink soup from teacups and such solid foods as Jack and Frank put into their stomachs was only what they succeeded in grabbing as they leaped about on the table. The two returned on deck. The day passed quietly. No submarines were sighted, and at last the flotilla reached the point where the destroyers were to leave the homeward bound transports to pursue their voyage alone. The transports soon grew indistinguishable, almost, in the semi-darkness. The senior naval officer aboard the Plymouth hoisted signal flags. "Bon Voyage," they read. Through a glass Jack read the reply. "Thank you for your good work. Best of luck." From the S.N.O. (senior naval officer) came another message. Frank picked it up. "Set course 188 degrees. Keep lookout for inbound transports to be convoyed. Ten ships." Again the destroyer swung into line. It was almost seven o'clock—after dark—when the lookout aboard the Plymouth reported: "Smoke ahead!" Instantly all was activity aboard the destroyers. Directly, through his glass, Jack sighted nine rusty, English tramp steamers, of perhaps eight thousand tons, and a big liner auxiliary flying the Royal Navy ensign. Under the protection of the destroyers, the ships made for an English port. The night passed quietly. With the coming of morning, the flotilla was divided. The Plymouth stood by to protect the big liner, while the other three destroyers and the tramp steamers moved away toward the east. "This destroyer game is no better than driving a taxi," Frank protested to Jack on the bridge that afternoon. You never see anything. I'd like to get ashore for a change. I've steamed sixty thousand miles since last May and what have I seen? Three ports, besides six days' leave in London." "You had plenty of time ashore before that," replied Jack. "Maybe I did. But I'd like to have some more. Besides, this isn't very exciting business." Night fell again, and still nothing had happened to break the quiet monotony of the trip. Lights of trawlers flashed up ahead. Interest on the bridge picked up. "Object off the port bow," called the lookout. "Looks like a periscope," reported the quartermaster. Frank snapped his binoculars on a bobbing black spar. "Buoy and fishnet," he decided after a quick scrutiny. Frank kept the late watch that night. At 4 a.m. he turned in. At five he climbed hastily from his bunk at the jingle of general alarm, and reached the bridge on the run in time to see the exchange of recognition signals with a British man-o'- war, which vessel had run into a submarine while the latter was on the surface in a fog. The warship had just rammed the U-boat. "Can we help you?" Frank called across the water. "Thanks. Drop a few depth charges," was the reply. This was done, but nothing came of it Frank returned to his bunk. "Pretty slow life, this, if you ask me," he told himself. He went back to sleep. CHAPTER II THE BOY CAPTAIN AND HIS LIEUTENANT The U.S.S. Plymouth was Jack Templeton's first command. He had been elevated to the rank of captain only a few weeks before. Naturally he was not a little proud of his vessel. When Jack was given his ship, it was only natural, too, that Frank Chadwick, who had been his associate and chum through all the days of the great war, should become Jack's first officer. In spite of the fact that Jack's rating as captain was in the British navy, he was at this moment in command of an American vessel. This came about through a queer combination of circumstances. The American commander of the Plymouth had been taken suddenly ill. At almost the same time the Plymouth had been ordered to proceed from Dover to Liverpool to join other American vessels. Almost on the eve of departure, the first officer also was taken ill. It was to him the command naturally would have fallen in the captain's absence. The second officer was on leave of absence. Thus, without a skipper, the Plymouth could not have sailed. Jack and Frank had recently returned with a British convoy from America. They were in Dover at the time. From his sick bed in a hospital, the captain of the Plymouth had appealed to the British naval authorities. In spite of the fact that he was in no condition to leave when he received his orders, he did not wish to deny his crew the privilege of seeing active service, which the call to Liverpool, he knew, meant. The captain's appeal had been turned over to Lord Hastings, now connected prominently with the British admiralty. Lord Hastings, in the early days of the war, had been the commander under whom Jack and Frank had served. In fact, the lads were visiting the temporary quarters of Lord Hastings in Dover when the appeal was received from the commander of the Plymouth. "How would you like to tackle this job, Jack?" Lord Hastings asked. "I'd like it," the lad replied, "if you think I can do it, sir." "Of course you can do it," was Lord Hastings' prompt reply. "I haven't sailed with you almost four years for nothing." "You mean, sir," replied Jack with a smile, "that I haven't sailed with you that long for nothing." "That's more like it, Jack," put in Frank laughingly. "I've learned a few things from Lord Hastings myself." "It is hardly probable," continued Lord Hastings, "that your promotion has been unearned, Jack. No, I believe you can fill the bill." "In that case, I shall be glad to take command of the Plymouth temporarily, sir." "And how about me?" Frank wanted to know. "Where do I come in, sir?" "Why," said Lord Hastings, "I have no doubt it can be arranged so you can go along as first officer. I understand the first officer of the Plymouth is also under the weather." "But isn't all this a bit irregular, sir?" Jack asked. "Very much so," was Lord Hastings' reply. "At the same time, many precedents are being broken every day, and I can see no reason why two British officers cannot lend their services to an ally if they are asked to do so." "It is a little different with me, sir," said Frank. I'm an American." "All the same," said Lord Hastings, "you're a British naval officer, no matter what your nativity." "That's true, too, sir," Frank agreed. "I haven't thought of it in just that way." "Well," said Lord Hastings, "I shall report then that Captain Templeton and First Lieutenant Chadwick will go aboard the Plymouth this evening." "Very well, sir," said Jack. This is the reason then that Jack and Frank found themselves aboard an American destroyer in the Irish sea. Frank Chadwick, as we have seen, was an American. He had been in Italy with his father when the great war began. He had been shanghaied in Naples soon after Germany's declaration of war on France. When he came to his senses he found that his captors were a band of mutinous sailors. Aboard the vessel he found a second prisoner, who turned out to be a member of the British secret service. Frank met Jack Templeton, a British youth, aboard the schooner. Jack came aboard in a peculiar way. The schooner, in control of the mutineers, had put into a north African port for provisions. Now it chanced that the store where the mutineers sought to buy provisions was conducted by Jack. The lad was absent when the supplies were purchased and returned a few moments later to find that the mutineers had departed without making payment. Jack's anger bubbled over. He put off for the schooner in a small boat. Aboard, the chief of the mutineers refused the demand for payment. A fight ensued. Jack, facing heavy odds, sought refuge in the hold of the vessel, where he was made a prisoner. During the night Jack was able to force his way from the hold into the cabin where Frank and the British secret service agent were held captives. He released them, and joining forces, the three were able to overcome the mutineers and make themselves masters of the ship. Now Jack Templeton was an experienced seaman and knew more than the rudiments of navigation. Under his direction the schooner returned to the little African port that he called home. There the three erstwhile prisoners left the ship to the mutineers. Later, through the good offices of the British secret service, Frank and Jack made the acquaintance of Lord Hastings, also in the diplomatic service. They were able to render some service to the latter and later accompanied him to his home in London. There, at their request, Lord Hastings, who in the meantime had been given command of a ship of war, had them attached to his ship with the rank of midshipmen. Both Jack and Frank had risen swiftly in the British service. They had seen active service in all quarters of the globe and had fought under many flags. Under Lord Hastings' command they had been with the British fleet in the North Sea when it struck the first decisive blow against the Germans just off Helgoland. Later they were found under the Tricolor of France and with the Italians in the Adriatic. With the British fleet again when it sallied forth to clear the seven seas of enemy vessels, they had traversed the Atlantic, the Pacific and the Indian oceans. It had been their fortune, too, to see considerable land fighting. They had been with the Anglo-Japanese forces in the east and had conducted raiding parties in some of the German colonial possessions. Several times they had successfully run the blockade in the Kiel canal, passing through the narrow straits in submarines just out of reach of the foe. In Russia, they had, early in the war, lent invaluable assistance to the Czar; and more lately, they had been in the eastern monarchy when Czar Nicholas had been forced to renounce his throne. Once since the war began they had been to America. This was shortly after the United States entered the war. They were ordered to the North Atlantic in order to help the American authorities snare a German commerce raider which, in some unaccountable manner, had run the British blockade in the North sea, and was wreaking havoc with allied shipping. Later they went to New York, and then returned to Europe with a combined British-American convoy for the first expeditionary force to cross the seas. In temperament and disposition Jack and Frank were as unlike as one could conceive. Jack, big for his age, broad- shouldered and strong, was always cool and collected. Frank, on the other hand, was of a more fiery nature, easily angered and often rash and reckless. Jack's steadying influence had often kept the two out of trouble, or brought them through safely when they were in difficulties. Both lads spoke French and German fluently and each had a smattering of Italian. Also, as the result of several trips to Russia, they had a few words of the Russian tongue at their command. In physical strength, Jack excelled Frank by far, although the latter was by no means a weakling. On the other hand again, Frank was a crack shot with either rifle or revolver; in fact, he was such an excellent marksman as to cause his chum no little degree of envy. Then, too, both lads were proficient in the art of self defense and both had learned to hold their own with the sword. Up to the time this story opens the combined allied fleets had succeeded in keeping the Germans bottled up in the strong fortress of Helgoland. True, the enemy several times had sallied forth in few numbers, apparently seeking to run the blockade in an effort to prey upon allied merchant ships. But every time they had offered battle they had received the worst of it. They had been staggered with a terrible defeat at Jutland almost a year before this story opens, and since that time had not ventured forth. But even now, in the security of their hiding places, the Germans were meditating a bold stroke. Submarines were being coaled and victualed in preparation for a dash across the Atlantic. Already, one enemy submarine—a merchantman— had passed the allied ships blocking the English channel and had crossed to America and returned. Some months later, a U-Boat of the war type had followed suit. A cordon of ally ships had been thrown around American ports to snare this venturesome submarine on its return, but it had eluded them and returned safely to its home port. But soon—very soon, indeed—German undersea craft were to strike a more severe blow at allied shipping, carrying, for the moment, the war in all its horrors to the very door of America. While the United States was arming and equipping its millions to send across the sea to destroy the kaiser and German militarism, these enemy undersea craft were crossing the Atlantic determined to reap a rich harvest upon American, allied and neutral shipping off the American coast. And the blow was to be delivered without warning—almost. When the U.S.S. Plymouth, under Jack's command, returned to Liverpool, the captain of the vessel, having somewhat recovered, came aboard and relieved Jack of command. "I'm obliged for your services, Captain," he said, "but I'll take charge of the old scow again myself, with your leave." Jack and Frank went ashore, where, at their hotel, they received a brief telegram from Lord Hastings. It read as follows: "Return to Dover at once. Important." "Now I wonder what is up," said Frank after reading the message. "The simplest way to find out," replied Jack, "is to go and see." CHAPTER III OFF FOR AMERICA "Then everything went first rate your first trip, Captain?" questioned Lord Hastings. "First rate, sir," Jack replied. The lads were back in Dover where, the first thing after their arrival, they sought an audience with their former commander. "Yes, sir," Frank agreed, "Jack makes an A-1 captain." "I'm glad to hear it," was Lord Hastings' comment. "I've other work in hand and I wouldn't want to trust it to a man who is nervous under fire." "But we were not under fire this time, sir," said Jack. "You mustn't always take me literally, Jack," smiled Lord Hastings. "It was your first venture in your present rank and you acquitted yourself creditably. That is what I meant." "And what is the other venture, sir?" Frank asked eagerly. "There you go again, Frank," said Lord Hastings. "How many times have I told you that you must restrain your impatience." Frank was abashed. "Your warnings don't seem to do much good, I'll admit, sir. Nevertheless, I'll try to do better." "See that you do," returned Lord Hastings gravely. "Nothing was ever gained by too great impatience. Remember that." "I'll try, sir." "Very well. Then I shall acquaint you with the nature of the work in hand." The boys listened intently to Lord Hastings' next words. "As you know," His Lordship began, "the seas have virtually been cleared of all enemy ships. All German merchant vessels have been captured or sunk. What few raiders that preyed on our commerce for a time have been put out of business." "Yes, sir," said Jack. "Our merchant vessels no longer have anything to fear from the foe." "They shouldn't, that's true enough," replied Lord Hastings. "You mean they have, sir?" asked Jack, incredulously. Lord Hastings nodded. "I do," he admitted gravely. "Particularly shipping on the other side of the Atlantic." "America, sir?" "Exactly." "But surely," Frank put in, "surely our blockade is tight enough to prevent the enemy from breaking through." "We have not yet found means," replied Lord Hastings, "of effectually blockading the submarine." "Oh, I see," said Frank. "You mean that the Germans plan to open a submarine campaign upon allied shipping in American waters." "Such is my information," declared Lord Hastings. "And," said Jack, "you wish us to cross the Atlantic and take a hand in the game of taming the U-Boats, sir." "Such is my idea," Lord Hastings admitted. "Let me explain. My information is not authentic, but nevertheless, knowing the Germans as I do, I am tempted to credit it." "Then why not warn the United States, sir?" asked Frank. "There are enough American ships of war off the coast to deal effectually with all the submarines the Germans can get across." "So I would," was Lord Hastings' reply, "but for the fact that some officials of the admiralty are opposed to it." "Opposed?" exclaimed Jack. "And why, sir?" "Because they labor under the delusion that such a warning would throw the people of the United States into a panic and would prevent the sending of additional troops to France." "What a fool idea! By George!" exclaimed Frank, "what do they think the American people are made of?" "You'll have to ask them," was Lord Hastings' answer to this question. "For my own part, I feel that it is hardly fair to keep this information from the American authorities." "I should say it isn't fair," declared Frank. "I agree with you," said Jack. "But just where do Frank and I come in, sir?" "I'll make that plain to you very quickly," replied Lord Hastings. He drew a paper from his pocket and passed it to Jack. "Here," he said, "is your commission as captain of H.M.S. Brigadier." He passed a second paper to Frank. "This," he continued, "is your commission as first officer of the same vessel. Now, through channels known only to myself, I have induced the admiralty to send you to America with certain papers for Secretary Daniels of the navy department. At the same time, I have other personal papers which I shall have you deliver to the secretary of the navy for me. These will acquaint him with the facts I have just laid before you." "I see, sir," said Jack. "But, if you will pardon my asking, what will happen to you sir should it be found out you have acted contrary to the wishes of the admiralty majority?" Lord Hastings shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. "What's the difference?" he wanted to know. "Our allies must be warned." "I agree with you, sir," declared Jack. "And I, sir," said Frank. "It is possible," said Lord Hastings, "that should I take the matter up with the King or with the war ministry I might get action; but that would take time, and I want this message delivered at the earliest possible moment. Should I entrust it to the cables, under the circumstances, there is nothing certain of its arrival." "I see, sir," said Jack. "Then you may be sure that I shall deliver the message personally to Secretary Daniels." "It is well," said Lord Hastings. "I knew I could depend upon you boys." "Always, sir," replied Jack simply. "Then be off with you," said Lord Hastings, rising. "You can go aboard your ship to-night. Here is the message I wish delivered to the American secretary of the navy," and he passed a second paper to Jack. "The admiralty message you are to take will probably reach you some time in the morning, together with your sailing orders." Lord Hastings extended his hand. "Good-bye and good luck," he said. Jack and Frank shook hands with him and took their departure. "I'll be glad to get back to America if only for a short time," said Frank, as they walked toward the water front. "I won't mind another look at the United States myself," Jack declared. "It looks like a pretty good country to me, from what I saw of it last trip. Almost as good as England, I guess." "Almost?" repeated Frank. "Say, let me tell you something. The United States is the greatest country under the sun and don't you forget it. You Johnny Bulls seem to think that England is the only spot on the map." "Well," returned Jack with a smile, "it strikes me that you boast considerably about your own land." Frank's face reddened a trifle. "Maybe I do," he admitted, "but it's worth it." "So is England," said Jack quietly. "By George! So it is, Jack," said Frank. "Maybe it is a fact that I talk too much sometimes." "No 'maybes' about it," declared Jack. "It's just a plain fact." "Look here," said Frank, somewhat nettled, "you may be my boss aboard ship, but right now, with no witnesses present to hear what I say, I'll say what I like." "Come, come, now," said Jack with a smile, "don't get all out of humor just because I joke you a little bit." Frank grinned. "Well, then don't always thinks I'm angry just because I make a hot reply," he said. Jack let it go at that. "Well, here we are at the water front," he said a few moments later, "and if I'm not mistaken that's the Brigadier about a hundred yards off shore there." "That's the Brigadier, all right," said Frank, "I can see her name forward even at this distance. By George! but the camouflage artists have certainly done a good job on her." "So they have," Jack agreed. "But we may as well go aboard." They commandeered a small boat and rowed rapidly to the Brigadier. Jack swung himself up on deck and Frank climbed up behind him. A young lieutenant greeted Jack respectfully after a quick glance at the latter's bars. "What can I do for you, sir?" he asked. "You may go below and tell the engineer to get steam up immediately," replied Jack. "We may not sail before morning, but I may desire to leave before." "Very well, sir," replied the young officer, "but may I ask who you are, sir?" "Certainly," replied Jack, "I'm the commander of this ship, Captain Templeton. This is Mr. Chadwick, my first officer. What is your name, sir?" "Hetherton, sir, second officer of the Brigadier." "Very good, Lieutenant. You shall stay on here as second officer until further notice. Now below with you." Lieutenant Hetherton disappeared. "I guess he won't ask many more questions," said Frank grimly. "Perhaps not," said Jack. "Now, Mr. Chadwick, will you be so kind as to take the deck while I go to my cabin." Frank seemed about to remark upon Jack's sudden change in manner. Then he thought better of it and walked off, grumbling to himself. "Wonder what he's in such an all-fired rush about? He's not wasting any time, that's sure." He took the deck. Ten minutes later Lieutenant Hetherton reported to him, saluting at the same time. "Engineer says he'll have steam up in two hours, sir." "Very well," replied Frank, returning the salute. "Will you kindly take the deck, Lieutenant Hetherton? I'm going below." Lieutenant Hetherton took the deck, and thus relieved, Frank went below and sought out Jack's cabin. "Now," he said, "I'll find out what all this rush is about." Without the formality of a knock, he went in. CHAPTER IV THE START Inside Jack's cabin, Frank found his commander and chum engaged in conversation with the engineer officer, who had sought his new commander immediately after giving instructions below. He saluted Frank as the lad entered. "My first officer, Lieutenant Chadwick, Mr. Winslow," Jack introduced them. "I am sure you will get along together." "So am I, sir," agreed the engineer. "And when shall we be moving, sir?" "I can't say, exactly," replied Jack. "Probably not before morning, but I wish to be ready to leave on a moment's notice." "Very well, sir," said the engineer, "As I said before, I'll have steam up in two hours." "Do so, sir." The engineer saluted and left Jack's cabin. Jack turned to Frank. "Now," he said, "what are you doing here? I thought I left you to take the deck?" "I turned the deck over to Hetherton," replied Frank with a grin. "I wanted to find out what all this rush is about?" "Don't you know it's bad form to ask questions of your commander?" Jack said severely. "Maybe it is," Frank agreed, "but I just wanted to find out." "Well, I wouldn't do it in front of any of the other officers or the men," said Jack. "It's bad for the ship's discipline. However, I'll tell you, I just wanted to have things ready, that's all. Come, we'll go on deck." They ascended to the bridge. Jack addressed Lieutenant Hetherton. "Pipe all hands on deck for inspection, Lieutenant," he ordered. Lieutenant Hetherton passed the word. A moment later men came tumbling up the companion way and fell into line aft. Jack and Frank walked forward to look them over. Jack addressed a few words to the men. "I've just taken over command of the Brigadier," he said. "To-morrow morning, or sooner, we shall sail, our destination temporarily to be known only to myself. I believe that I may safely promise you some action before many days have passed." A hearty British cheer swept the ship. "Hurrah!" cried the men. A few moments later Jack dismissed them. Then the officers returned to the bridge, where Jack told off the watches. "Now," he said, "I'll have to look over the ship." Frank accompanied him on his tour of inspection. They found everything absolutely clean and ship-shape. The muzzles of the big guns were shining brightly beneath their coat of polish. After the inspection, Jack and Frank went below for a look at the ship's papers. The Brigadier was a small destroyer, not more than 200 feet long. It had a complement of 250 men, officers and crew; carried two batteries of 9-inch guns in turrets forward and aft and was equipped with three 2-inch torpedo tubes. It was not one of the latest of British destroyers, but still it was modern in many respects. "A good ship," said Jack, after a careful examination of the papers. "As to speed, we should get twenty-three knots on a pinch. Her fighting equipment is excellent, everything is spick and span, and I was impressed with the officers and crew. Yes, she is a good ship." "And you're the boss of the whole ranch, Jack," said Frank. "Think of it. Less than four years ago you knew nothing at all of naval tactics, and now you're in command of a British destroyer. By George! I wouldn't mind having your job myself." Jack smiled. "Never mind," he said. "You'll get yours some day. I've just been more fortunate, that's all. Besides, I knew something of navigation before you did, and while you have mastered it now, I had a long start." "That's true enough," Frank admitted, "but at the same time you are considerably more fit for the job than I am. Another thing. I don't know that I would trade my berth here for a command of a ship." Jack looked his surprise. "Why?" he asked. "Because it would separate us," was Frank's reply. "We've been together now since the war began, almost. I hope that we may see it through together." "Here, too," declared the commander of the Brigadier, "but at the same time you should not let a matter of friendship stand between you and what may be your big opportunity." "Oh, I'd probably take the job if it were offered me," said Frank. "I'm just hoping the offer will not be made; that's all." The lads conversed for some moments longer. Then Frank looked at his watch. "My watch," he said quietly. "I'll be going on deck." "Right," said Jack. "Call me if anything happens." "Yes, sir," said Frank, saluting his commander gravely. Jack grinned. "By Jove! It seems funny to have you talk like that to me," he said. "At the same time I suppose it must be done for the sake of discipline. However, it is not necessary in private." "Nevertheless," said Frank, "I had better stick to it or I'm liable to forget in public some time." "Well, maybe you're right," said Jack. Frank turned on his heel and went on deck, where he relieved Lieutenant Hetherton, who had been on watch. "Nothing to report, sir," said Lieutenant Hetherton, saluting. "Very well, sir," was Frank's reply, as he, too, saluted. It was after midnight, and Frank's watch was nearing its end when the lookout on the port side called: "Boat off the port bow, sir." Frank advanced to the rail. A moment later there was a hail from the water. "What ship is that?' "His Majesty's Ship Brigadier," Frank called back. "I'm coming aboard you," said the voice from the darkness. "Lower a ladder." Frank gave the necessary command. A few moments later a man attired in the uniform of a British captain came over the side. He approached Frank, who was barely visible in the darkness. "Captain Templeton?" he asked. "No, sir. I'm Lieutenant Chadwick. A moment, sir, and I'll call the captain." "If you please," said the visitor. Frank passed the word for the quartermaster, who arrived within a few moments. "Call Captain Templeton," Frank directed. Jack arrived on deck a few moments later and exchanged greetings with his visitor. The latter produced a packet of papers. "From the admiralty," he said. "You will know what to do with them." Jack took the papers and stowed them in his pocket. "Yes, sir," he said. "That is all, then," said the visitor. "I shall be going." He stepped to the side of the vessel and disappeared. "This means," said Jack, after the other had gone, "that we can sail any time now." "Then why not at once?" asked Frank. "You anticipated me," replied Jack. "Will you kindly pipe all hands on deck, Mr. Chadwick?" Frank passed the word. Sleepy men came tumbling from their bunks below. All became bustle and hurry aboard the Brigadier. Jack himself took the bridge. Frank stood beside him. Other officers took their places. "Man the guns!" came Jack's order. It was the lad's intention to overlook nothing that would protect the ship should it encounter an enemy submarine en route, and, as the lad knew, it was just as possible they would encounter one in the English Channel as elsewhere. For, despite all precautions taken by British naval authorities, enemy submarines more than once had crept through the channel, once penetrating Dover harbor itself, where they had wreaked considerable damage before being driven away by British destroyers and submarine chasers. A few moments later Jack signaled the engine room. "Half speed ahead." Slowly the Brigadier slipped from her anchorage and moved through the still waters of the harbor. Directly she pushed her nose into the channel, then headed east. "Full speed ahead!" Jack signaled the engine room. The Brigadier leaped forward. "Better turn in, Jack," said Frank. "It's Thompson's watch." "No, I'll stick until we reach the Atlantic," returned Jack. "Then I'll stick along," said Frank. This they did. It was hours later when the Brigadier ran clear of the channel and breasted the heavy swell of the Atlantic. Jack spoke to Thompson, the third officer. "I'm going to turn in," he said. "If anything happens, call me at once." "Very well, sir," was the third officer's reply. He saluted briefly. Jack and Frank went below. "Come in a moment before you turn in, if you wish," Jack said to Frank. "May as well," replied the latter. "I don't feel like turning in for an hour yet." "Well, you can't keep me out of bed that long," declared Jack. "I've got to be stirring before you go on watch again. But I thought we might talk a few moments." Nevertheless, it was an hour later that Frank went to his own cabin. He turned in at once and was soon fast asleep. On the other hand, sleep did not come to Jack so soon. For an hour or more he lay in his bunk, reviewing the events of the past and his responsibilities of the present. "It's a big job I have now," he told himself. "I hope I can carry it through successfully." But he didn't have the slightest doubt that he could. Jack's one best characteristic was absolute confidence in himself. CHAPTER V A RESCUE H.M.S. Brigadier was steaming steadily along at a speed of twenty knots. Jack himself held the bridge. Frank and Lieutenant Hetherton, who stood nearby, were discussing the sinking several days before of a large allied transport by a German submarine in the Irish sea. "She was sunk without warning, the same as usual," said Hetherton. "The Germans never give warning any more," replied Frank, "Of course, the reason is obvious enough. To give warning it would be necessary for the submarine to come to the surface, in which case the merchant ship might be able to place a shell aboard the U-Boat before she could submerge again. So to take time to give warning would be a disadvantage to the submarine." "At the same time," said Hetherton, "it's an act of barbarism to sink a big ship without giving passengers and crew a word of warning." "Oh, I'm not defending the German system," declared Frank. "I am just giving you what I believe is the German viewpoint." "Nevertheless," said Hetherton, "it's about time such activities were stopped." "It certainly is. But it seems that the U-Boats are growing bolder each day." "It wouldn't surprise me," declared Lieutenant Hetherton, "to hear almost any day that U-Boats had crossed the Atlantic to prey on shipping in American waters." Frank looked at the second officer sharply. He was sure that Jack had not divulged the real reason for their present voyage, and he had said nothing about the matter himself. "Just a chance remark, I guess," Frank told himself. Aloud he said: "I hardly think it will come to that." "I hope not," replied Hetherton, "but you never can tell, you know." "That's true enough, too," Frank agreed, "but at the same—" He broke off suddenly as he caught the sharp hail of the forward lookout. "Ship in distress off the port bow, sir," came the cry. Jack was at once called to the deck. Instantly Frank and Lieutenant Hetherton sprang to Jack's side. At almost the same moment the radio operator emerged from below on the run. "Message, sir," he exclaimed, and thrust a piece of paper in Jack's hand. Jack read it quickly. It ran like this: "Merchant steamer Hazelton, eight thousand tons, New York to Liverpool with munitions and supplies, torpedoed by submarine. Sinking. Help." "Did you get her position?" demanded Jack of the wireless operator. "No, sir. The wireless failed before he could give it." "Don't you think it may be the vessel ahead, sir?" asked Lieutenant Hetherton. "Can't tell," was Jack's reply. "It may be, in which case there are probably more submarines about. Clear ship for action, Mr. Chadwick." No sooner said than done. Frank and others of the ship's officers darted hither and yon, making sure that everything was in readiness. At the guns, the gunners grinned cheerfully. Frank approached the battery in the forward turret. "All right?" he asked. "O.K., sir," replied the officer in command of the gun crew. "Show us a submarine, that's all we ask." "There are probably a dozen or so about here some place," returned Frank. "Keep your eyes peeled and don't wait an order to fire if you see anything that looks like one." "Right, sir." The officer turned to his men with a sharp command. Frank continued his inspection of the ship as the Brigadier dashed toward the vessel in distress, probably ten miles ahead. Every man aboard the Brigadier was on the alert as the destroyer plowed swiftly through the water. It was possible, of course, that the submarines had made off after attacking the vessel, but there was always the possibility that some were still lurking in the neighborhood. "Can't be too careful," Jack told himself. Fifteen minutes later, the lookout was able to make out more clearly the ship ahead of them. "Steamer Hazelton," he called to the quartermaster, who reported to Jack. "Same vessel that sent the wireless, Frank," was Jack's comment. "We will have to look sharp. It's more than an even bet that some of those undersea sharks are watching for a ship to come to the rescue so they can have a shot at her also." "We're ready for 'em," said Frank significantly. "All right," said Jack. "In the meantime we'll stand by the Hazelton and see if we can lend a hand." As the Brigadier drew closer those on deck could see signs of confusion aboard the Hazelton. Then there arose a large cloud of smoke that for a moment hid the Hazelton from view. This was followed by a loud explosion. When the smoke cleared away, the water nearby was filled with struggling figures. "Lower the boats," shouted Jack. Instantly men sprang to obey the command, while others of the British tars still stood quietly behind their guns, their eyes scanning the sea. Aboard the Hazelton, the crew, or what remained of the crew, were attempting to lower lifeboats. Directly one was lowered safely, and loaded to the guards with human freight. A second and a third were lowered safely, and put off toward the Brigadier. In the meantime, lifeboats from the destroyer had darted in among the struggling figures and willing hands were lifting the victims to safety. Then these, in turn, started back to the destroyer. "I guess they're all off," said Frank to Jack. "I hope so," was Jack's reply. "If I am not mistaken, there are women among the survivors." "By George! I thought I saw some myself," was Frank's answer. Suddenly there was a crash as the forward turret guns aboard the Brigadier burst into action. Looking ahead, Jack gave a startled cry, and no wonder. For, from beneath the water, appeared a periscope and then the long low outline of a German submarine came into view. Again the Brigadier's guns crashed, but the shells did not strike home. Before the destroyer could fire again, a gun appeared as if by magic on the submarine's deck, and a hail of bullets was poured into the first of the nearby lifeboats. At the same time the U-Boat launched a torpedo at the Brigadier. Jack gave a cry of horror at the predicament of those in the small boats. But he did not lose his head, and at the same time maneuvered his ship out of the path of the torpedo. Came a hail from the lookout aft. "Submarine off the stern, sir!" At the same moment the battery in the Brigadier's turret aft burst into action. "Forward with you, Mr. Chadwick," cried Jack, "and see if you can't get better results there. The men seem to have lost their nerve." Frank sprang forward. Jack's words were true. It appeared that the crew in the forward turret were so anxious to sink the first submarine that they had not taken time to find the range. "Cease firing!" shouted Frank as he sprang into the turret. The order was obeyed, but there came a grumble from the men at what they deemed such a strange command under the circumstances. "I thought you fellows were gunners," said Frank angrily. "Smith, get the range." Smith did so, and announced it a moment later. "Now," said Frank, "get your aim, men." No longer was there confusion in the forward turret. The guns were trained carefully. "Ready," cried Frank. "Fire!" "Crash!" A moment and there was a loud cheer from the crew. The German submarine seemed to leap high from the water, and then fell back in a dozen pieces. Frank wasted no further time on the first submarine. Leaving the forward turret, he dashed aft to where other guns were firing on the second submarine. Meantime Jack, perfectly cool on the bridge, had maneuvered his vessel out of the way of several torpedoes from the second U-Boat. But, as he very well knew, this combat must be brought to a quick end or one of the torpedoes was likely to find its mark. From the deck of the second submarine, a hail of fire from a machine gun was still being poured into the helpless lifeboats. What execution had been done Jack had no means of telling at the moment, but he knew there must have been some casualties.