d again. But every time the
quivering submarine failed to move an inch!

CHAPTER XV

THE HUMAN TORPEDO

"Looks as though we were up against it," remarked Executive Officer
Cleary to his chief as the _Dewey's_ engines died down into silence.

Lieutenant McClure, his youthful face wrinkled in deep thought, looked
up apprehensively.

"A very serious situation," he mumbled.

He spoke with marked gravity now, and there was no response from the
executive officer, nor from Navigating Officer Binns, as they stood
quietly and rigidly at attention, awaiting orders.

Inquiry in the engine room brought the information that the batteries
had been greatly depleted by the tremendous exertions of the _Dewey_.
The supply of "juice" certainly could not last much longer.

What next? Instinctively every man aboard the doomed ship was asking
himself the question. It was only too manifest that the _Dewey_ had
run hard aground. The best that could be hoped for now was that the
shifting currents of the sea might wash the submarine free before
death overwhelmed her imprisoned crew.

"Make yourselves as comfortable as possible; we are not done for
yet---not by a jugful," essayed McClure bravely as he sauntered into
the torpedo room where Chief Gunner Mowrey and his men were assembled
in hushed discussion of the _Dewey's_ plight.

Immediately "Little Mack" was surrounded by his men. They asked him
all manner of questions.

"Remember first, last, and always that you are Americans and members
of the United States Navy," continued their commanding officer. "We
have air supply in the reserve tanks sufficient to stay here for many
hours yet without danger of suffocation; and in the meantime quite a
number of things can happen."

Despite their commander's cheery remarks there was little comfort in
his words. Trusting implicitly their gallant chief, every man aboard
the stranded submarine was keenly alive to the seriousness of the
situation and mentally figuring on the possibilities of escape from
the prison ship in case it was found at last impossible to float
the vessel. The boys knew their dauntless commander, in a final
extremity, would resort to heroic measures of escape rather than
allow his men to be suffocated and overwhelmed by a slow death in
their trap of steel.

It was now more than twelve hours since the _Dewey_ had submerged
after the exciting events of the preceding night and the air supply
was still suff