"And all because of your rare cunning, old boy," countered his executive
enthusiastically.
Out of the darkness came a shout for help close at hand. Switching
the searchlight in the direction of the cry, Commander McClure beheld
a head bobbing in the water only a few yards away. It was one of his
own crew, one of the electrician's helpers who had gone overboard
with the rest in the mad scramble to outwit the Germans. In a few
minutes he was hauled aboard, dripping wet, his teeth chattering from
the exposure in the water.
"They are all around here," the boy chattered. "We managed to keep
pretty close together in the water."
McClure grasped his hand.
"You are a brave lad," he said. "Every man of you has proved his
mettle by taking a daring chance. Go below now, son, get into warm
clothing and gets something hot to drink."
Coasting to and fro in the water, scanning the sea now to the right,
now to the left, the _Dewey_ continued the search for her crew.
Singly, in twos, and in one case three, men were picked up until it
seemed to the commander that every boy who had gone overboard had
been reclaimed from the sea.
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