"You've made a great record so far, and I only hope you keep up the
good work. Stick together like pals---and be proud of that flag
of ours."
With a wave of the hand the ship's commander passed along the deck
and into the conning tower.
"There's an ace for you," said Jack, with an admiring glance at the
retreating figure.
"Ace! I should say so," sputtered Bill. "Why, if 'Little Mack' told
me to go get von Tirpitz I'd go right after him."
Soon it was dusk and the little fleet had gotten out of sight of land
into the North Sea. Stealing away like shadows into the gloom, the
fleet of transports trailed along in battle formation ready to turn
back any attack. The crew of the _Dewey_ had retreated into the hold
and the vessel was riding awash, with Commander McClure at the wheel,
observing the deployment of the fleet from the conning tower.
Down in the torpedo room, bottled up under water where no sound could
escape to attract the attention of the outside world, Mike Mowrey
had tuned up his old banjo and the boys were having an old-fashioned
songfest.
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