Floating alone in the ocean, a mere speck in the water, Jack turned
toward land. It was his only salvation now.
Tearing off his hat and with it the wet waste he had inserted as a
cushion for his head, he struck out with long bold strokes. The fresh
air and the salt water invigorated him wonderfully after the long
confinement in the stifling atmosphere of the _Dewey_.
As he swam he thought of the boys back there in Uncle Sam's submersible
and how they, too, would be negotiating this same swim very
shortly---provided they escaped as safely as he had.
Before his mind flashed also the picture of what might happen to him
when at last his feet would strike bottom and he would make his way
through the surf to shore. He knew full well that practically all of
the Belgian seafront was held by the Germans. It was not likely he
could go very far without encountering a Hun coast patrol. But he
reserved to make the best of the situation and trust to luck.
After a hard swim he found himself in the surf and then his feet
touched bottom and he made his way shoreward through the breakers.
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