While the inspection
of the hull had been going on the submarine's batteries had been
recharged and she was ready again for further diving upon a moment's
notice. Lieutenant McClure climbed into the deck steering station---the
bridge of a submarine---and assumed charge of the electric rudder
control, the wheel of a submersible.
Jack and Ted were ordered onto the bridge with their commander and
instructed to keep a sharp lookout on the horizon with powerful
glasses. The wireless was snapping away exchanging messages with the
allied fleet and getting a line on the pursued raiders. The cool fresh
air felt invigorating after the night's cramped vigil in the fetid
air of the submarine.
When mess call sounded, Jack and Ted, relieved from duty, went below
to get some "chow" and snatch an hour or two of rest.
A radiogram was handed Lieutenant McClure while at breakfast giving
the position of the U.S.S. _Chicago_. A little later H.M.S. Congo, a
"limey," was spoken. Soon the sub was hearing the chatter of half a
dozen American and English warships.
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