CHAPTER IX

VIVE LA FRANCE!

Ted ran aft to the engine room to get a fuller report on the new danger that confronted the Dewey. There he found that what Bill Witt had said was only too true. Either portions of the flying steel from the exploded mine had punctured the skin of the submarine, or else the plates had been loosened by the detonation. The oil was leaking away at an alarming rate and there was no way here in the open sea to get at the leak. The Dewey would have to go into drydock before the repairs could be made.

"But we can navigate with our batteries, can't we?" Ted inquired of Sammy Smith, who had come out of the wireless room to better acquaint himself with the Dewey's newest tale of woe.

Sammy was not at all comforting.

"I understand the batteries, are pretty well exhausted," he said. "They were just going to recharge when we ran into that mine. Blaine says we have only enough juice to last us two hours, moderate running."

He paused for a moment as Ted grasped the significance of the situation.

"Furthermore," Sammy continued, "we cannot dive to any considerable depth."

"With that leak in the reservoir plates Cleary and Blame say it would be foolhardy to go down very far for fear the Dewey would spread wide open and we would be flooded."

It was disquieting news, and Ted hurried forward to talk it over with Jack. As he passed the control station he saw Cleary and Binns in animated conference with the chief engineer. He surmised they were debating the best course under the circumstances.

In the bunk room Ted found Jack had revived considerably under the influence of hot bouillon and strong coffee provided by Jean Cartier, and a change of clothing with a stiff rub-down that had done wonders for him.

"Monsieur is a brave man; he wins the American Croix de Guerre for saving the life of his commander so bravely," Jean was saying as Ted reappeared upon the scene.

Jack was trying hard to be modest.

"I'm feeling fine again, chum," was his rejoinder in response to Ted's query. "Come along. I'm going to look in on 'Little Mack.'" And grabbing Ted's arm he walked off with him to the lieutenant's quarters.

They found McClure now conscious, but very faint from his ordeal. It was certain that he could not assume command of the Dewey for some time.

The boys clambered on deck to unlimber a bit. Executive Officer Cleary was in charge. In the commotion attendant upon the collision with the mine and the rescue of the submarine commander the disabled German cruiser had been forgotten. There was now no trace of the doomed ship nor of the English "limey" that had been standing by.

"What do you suppose we will do now?" asked Ted.

"Reckon we'll have to drift around awhile and wait for somebody to come along and give us a lift," said Jack hopefully.

Night came on, but there was no response to the wireless call of the Dewey. Once a "limey" was spoken, but signaled in return that she was speeding to the assistance of a Scandinavian liner that had reported being under the shell fire of a German U-boat.

Jack was ordered to turn in right after evening "chow" despite his insistence that he was perfectly recovered from his dip in the sea. Ted was to report to the conning tower at four bells for duty on watch.

All night long the Dewey tossed in a rough sea. At the appointed hour Ted took up his station as lookout in the conning tower. He had instructions to maintain a sharp watch for enemy ships and to keep Acting Commander Cleary informed on all wireless registrations. The hours passed slowly.

Presently a storm rolled up out of the North Sea. Forked lightning and the distant rumble of thunder heralded its advance. The breeze increased to a gale before long and the sea became rough and angry.

Awakened by the tossing of the little craft and the ominous thunder, Jack appeared in the conning tower. Saluting the ship's executive officer, he declared he was feeling quite recovered from his strenuous dip in the sea of the previous day and quite ready for any service. Jack, accordingly, was posted at the reserve periscope. Ted was at the observation ports in the tower and Officer Cleary at the other periscope.

As the storm increased in fury the Dewey was buffeted about like an egg shell.

Ted was nursing a severe bump on the head, having been dashed by the rocking of the boat against one of the steel girders. Hanging on to supports, the crew of the Dewey were having a hard time saving life and limb as they were tossed to and fro by the fury of the storm.

When at last dawn broke over the troubled waters the gale began to subside. Even then it was impossible to lift the hatches and go on deck because of the rough sea. Waves mountain high were rolling over the submarine, and to open the conning tower was to invite certain disaster. There was nothing to do but wait.

Toward six o'clock Ted made out a long rakish-looking craft that had come up out of the southwest. When it was reported to Officer Cleary and he had looked critically at the vessel for some time he declared finally that it was a destroyer, but yet too far off to hazard any guess as to its nationality.

He decided to submerge slightly and watch the craft for a while and, if it proved to be a German warship, to submerge entirely and take chances on the leaky fuel reservoirs. The Dewey sank at his direction until the conning tower was under water.

"It looks like a French vessel," declared the acting commander to Jack a few minutes later as the warship came nearer.

He studied the approaching ship for a few minutes. "We will raise the lid of the conning tower and unfurl the Stars and Stripes from the periscope pole," he said finally.

"If it is a French destroyer we will soon find out; if it proves to be a German vessel let's hope we will have time to submerge and give him a torpedo. Will you take the flag aloft, Mr. Wainwright?" asked the Dewey's officer.

Saluting, Ted took the proffered flag and declared he was ready to start forthwith.

Making a slip knot of the line, he motioned for the hatch to be lifted and raised himself out of the turret as the lid swung upward.

The waves were dashing against the projection of steel and lashed their salty spray over the lad as he wrapped his legs about the slippery pole and began to climb. It was difficult work as the vessel lurched in the turbulent sea, but Ted persevered and succeeded in throwing the noose over the end of the pole above the eye of the periscope. Sliding deftly back again, unfurling the flag as he came, he was soon safe again in the conning tower.

Maneuvering about for a few minutes in a frantic effort to attract the attention of the unknown ship, the Dewey was finally rewarded by the boom of a gun that was followed almost immediately by the breaking out of the tricolor of France.

"Vive la France!" shouted the excited group in the conning tower of the Dewey. The cry spread throughout the hold and there was great rejoicing among the badly battered seasick prisoners within the stranded submarine.

Still on guard against trickery, the destroyer approached warily with all guns trained on the Dewey. Jean Cartier was called into the conning tower and as the destroyer drew within range poured a volley of joyous French expletives into the megaphone that had been thrust into his hand. In short order the submarine had completely established her identity and acquainted the commander of the destroyer with the condition of affairs aboard the Dewey.

The French vessel proved to be the La Roque, and her commander gladly consented to tow the disabled American vessel into an English port. Commander McClure was made as comfortable as possible and the voyage across the North Sea begun.

The disabled submarine weathered the trip very well and was delivered safely at an English base by the La Roque after an uneventful voyage.

Granted a shore furlough, Jack and Ted jumped a train and went up to London for their first visit in the famous city. For several days they took in the sights of the great metropolis, seeing, among other things, a wonderful reception accorded American troops from the States marching in review before King George on their way to the front, visiting Westminster Abbey and other notable places, looking in on the House of Commons for several hours and visiting the American embassy.

Letters awaited them from Brighton and they read with interest of the enlistment of more of their chums in the various branches of their country's service. Not the least important of their surprises was a great box from home filled with warm clothing, cakes, candies, and "eats" aplenty.

When they reported back again at their ship they found that the Dewey, slightly damaged, had been put into drydock and repairs were going steadily ahead. To their great joy they learned that Lieutenant McClure had not been injured seriously and was convalescing in a nearby hospital. They visited "Little Mack," who by now had heard the whole story of his rescue. Tears dimmed the eyes of the little commander as he expressed his thanks to Jack and Ted for their plucky part in hauling him back to safety after the fateful mine explosion.

By the time the repairs to the Dewey had been completed Lieutenant
McClure was able to assume command of his gallant little ship.

Soon came orders for the Dewey to proceed to sea again. This time the submarine was to act jointly with a convoy protecting the passage of troopships across the English Channel to Calais, and thence into action off Zeebrugge against the German destroyers making that port their rendezvous.