Having witnessed the fall of the crippled airship, another member of
the attacking squadron had put back to the rescue. As it soared now
within range of the American submarine a bomb came splashing into the
water not two hundred feet away.
Commander McClure began to figure that it was getting too dangerous
longer to risk his thin-skinned vessel before the rain of the lyddite
bombs, and accordingly gave orders to submerge. Jamming their guns
back into their deck casings, the crews melted away through the
hatches into the hold of the _Dewey_. Ballast poured in through
the valves and the ship began to submerge.
And then, just as the submarine began settling in the water, a shell
came whizzing over the water from the wounded airplane and burst
directly over the conning tower. There was a crash of rending steel
and then a great clatter on the forward deck of the submarine that
reechoed through the interior with an ominous sound.
"Great Scott!" ejaculated McClure. "They've torn away both our
periscopes!"
CHAPTER XI
IN THE FOG
Completely blinded by the fire from the wounded German birdman, the
_Dewey_ now had but one alternative.
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