" He spoke hopelessly. "I have tried every means I can
think of to float the _Dewey_, and we have been unable to move so
much as an inch. We are helpless---foundered. We are breathing
the last of our reserve stores of fresh air. By to-morrow morning
they will probably be exhausted, and you know what that means."
He paused for a moment amid a death-like silence, and then continued:
"There is but one course open to us. We shall draw lots. Then, in
turn, we shall attempt to make our escape while there is yet time.
Each man may have his own preference; you may either go out through
the torpedo tube as did Jack Hammond, or you may go through the
conning tower. Each man will please write his name on a slip of
paper and deposit it in this code book box. Officer Cleary will draw
the names from the box and Officer Binns will read them."
Slips of paper were produced by the ship's executive officer and
passed around the circle. Hardly a word was spoken during this
procedure, the usual debonair Bill Witt slouching against the hull
of the _Dewey_, a picture of abject despair.
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