he wounded German birdman, the
_Dewey_ now had but one alternative. The approach of other air
raiders made it necessary for the submarine to dive away into the
depths to safety. To linger longer on the surface was but to court
the continued fire of the birdmen overhead who apparently were incensed
over the wounding of their companion craft and out for revenge.

Reluctantly, but yielding to his better judgment, McClure gave orders
to submerge. At the same time the damaged periscopes were cut off in
the conning tower to prevent an inflow of water when the ship dived.

"Too bad to quit right now; but it would be folly to stand out under
those deadly bombs any longer," he said.

Fortunately, the _Dewey_ was equipped with reserve periscope tubes,
and Lieutenant McClure's plan now was to wait until the convenient
darkness of night had mantled the ocean and then ascend to repair at
leisure the damaged "eyes."

"Might as well make ourselves comfortable here awhile under the water,"
suggested "Little Mack."

Jean Cartier was instructed to extend himself for the evening meal
and to draw on the ship's larder for an "extra fine dinner." It being
the first night of the _Dewey's_ renewed cruise the ship's galley was
well stocked with fresh foods. Chops, baked potatoes, hot tea and
rice pudding represented the menu selected by Jean, and soon the odor
of the savory food had every mother's son smacking his lips in
anticipation of a luxurious "chow" to top off the exciting events of
the evening.

Seventy feet below the surface of the water, immune from hostile
attacks, officers and crew sat down to the repast as safe and secure
as though in a banquet hail on shore. Wit and laughter accompanied
the courses, and, as the submarine dinner was concluded, Bill Witt's
banjo was produced. Soon the ship resounded to the "plink-plunk-plink"
of the instrument and the gay songs of the jolly submarine sailors.

"If they could only see us now at Brighton!" laughed Ted, as he
surveyed the scene admiringly.

Jack grew reminiscent.

"Remember that last dinner at Brighton?" he asked. "Fellows all
wishing us good luck and cheering for us out on the campus? And
good old 'prexie' declaring he expected to hear great things of his
boys in the war? And all of them standing on the dormitory steps
singing 'Fair Brighton' as we headed for the depot?"

Ted remembered it all now only too plainly. Good old Brighton!
Back there now under the o