The Boy Allies with the Terror of the Seas; Or, The Last Shot of Submarine D-16

UNDER THE SEA.

"One!"

The speaker was Jack Templeton, an English youth and first officer of the British submarine D-16, Lord Hastings, commander.

Frank Chadwick, an American lad about the same age as Jack, the second officer of the under-sea fighter, laid his hand upon his friend's arm.

"Let me take a look," he said.

Jack relinquished to his chum his place at the periscope, and the latter peered into the instrument long and earnestly.

Into the periscope--which protruded slightly above the surface of the water while the submarine was still submerged--came the vision of a sinking warship, and the sight, enlarged by powerful binoculars, was apparent to Frank's eyes.

"She's done for, all right," he said quietly, turning away at length. "Pretty good shooting, I should say."

"One torpedo only," replied Jack briefly.

"You may give the signal to rise, Mr. Templeton," said a third voice, and Lord Hastings, commander of the submarine, stood before them.

Jack turned away in response to this command.

Another moment and the pumps were at work, forcing the water from the tanks. Gradually the submarine began to rise, and at last rode quietly upon the surface of the North Sea.

Followed by Jack and Frank, Lord Hastings led the way up through the little conning tower, opened now that the submarine was above water, and from there to the bridge, only a few feet above the surface of the sea. Here all turned their eyes toward the east, where, less than half a mile away, a German ship of war was slowly sinking by the head.

"A good shot, Mr. Templeton," said Lord Hastings, turning to Jack.

"Pretty fair, sir," was the latter's modest reply, for he had launched the torpedo with his own hand.

Aboard the sinking German vessel all was confusion. Men rushed hither and thither in wild excitement. Officers shouted hoarse commands. Men scrambled wildly about and jumped madly for the life boats as they were launched. So great was the panic that two of the small boats were overturned and the men thrown into the sea.

"They'll be drowned!" exclaimed Frank. He turned to Lord Hastings. "Cannot we rescue them, sir?"

"It is impossible," was the quiet response. "We have no room for them. We are carrying a full crew, as you know, and have no room for another man."

"But it is terrible to let them drown," protested Frank.

"True," replied his commander, "and yet think how some of our merchant vessels have been sent to the bottom without warning and their crews to a watery grave, noncombatants though they were. It is retribution; no less."

Frank was silent, but he stood watching the struggling German sailors with an anxious eye.

Now the officers aboard the sinking vessel had succeeded in gaining some semblance of order from the confusion that had reigned a few moments before, and the enemy was going about the work of launching the boats more coolly and successfully.

At last all the boats and the crew had left the ship--all but one man, who still stood calmly upon the bridge. This was the commander, who, rather than leave his ship, was preparing to go down with her. In vain did his officers from the boats call upon him to jump. To all their calls he turned a deaf ear, and stood calmly at his post, with folded arms.

Now the sinking vessel began to settle more swiftly. Suddenly she seemed to leap clear of the water, there came a thundering roar, and then, seeming to despair of her efforts to keep afloat, she dived, in another moment she disappeared and the waters of the North Sea closed with an angry swirl over the mighty German warship and her gallant commander.

"Well, she's gone," said Jack quietly.

"Then we may as well go also," declared Lord Hastings. "Shape your course due west, Mr. Templeton."

"Very good, sir," replied Jack, saluting, and he disappeared below.

Lord Hastings and Frank continued to peer at the flotilla of German small boats, which, at a command from the officer in charge, had shipped their oars and were pulling toward the east with lusty strokes.

"I hope they make land safely, or are picked up," said Frank.

"So do I," replied his commander. "Come, we shall go below."

The D-16 again on her way, Frank betook himself to his own quarters, which he and Jack shared together. Here he was surprised to see the latter cutting a notch on the side of the highly polished small table in the center of the cabin.

"What are you doing there?" he asked in surprise. "What are you cutting up that table for?"

"Well," said Jack, "in reading some of your American literature, I learned that every time one of your wild westerners killed a man he cut a notch on his gun. I'm following along the same lines, only I intend to cut a notch on this table every time we sink one of the enemy."

"Quite an idea, that," said Frank. "But when you say you read that stuff in American literature, you are wrong. I won't deny that you have read it, but I'd call it American fiction, not literature."

"Never mind," said Jack, "it'll answer my purpose, whatever you call it."

"Guess I'll turn in for a couple of hours," said Frank. "I'm feeling rather tired."

"Help yourself," replied his friend. "I want a few words with Lord Hastings."

He left the cabin, while Frank, kicking off his shoes and removing his coat, threw himself down on his bed, and in a few moments was fast asleep. As he is taking much needed repose, we will take the time to introduce these two lads more fully.

Jack Templeton, the son of an Englishman, had spent the better part of his life in a little village on the north coast of Africa. His father, who owned a small store, had been his only instructor, but in spite of this the lad had been given a first-class education. He was well read in literature and history, could pass muster on almost any other subject and was well posted on current events.

Jack's father had been taken suddenly ill and after a protracted sickness died. Jack took charge of the store. One day a ship put into the harbor and several sailors landed, went to the store and procured provisions. In Jack's absence, they departed without making payment.