craft with all on board, myself included, for good and all. But it is
no use talking of the impossibly heroic."

"I have a plan," announced Vernon, after thinking deeply for a few
minutes.

"Well, out with it!"

"We have to pass through one of the broadside torpedo-rooms as we go on
deck. We could each snatch a spanner and give the war-heads a terrific
blow. You'll remember that there are half a dozen torpedoes in the
cages against the bulkhead. It would mean certain death for us, but it
would save nearly a thousand lives."

Ross shook his head.

"There's no certainty of success," he objected. "Those torpedoes are
very much like our own Whiteheads. The striker in the head is
protected against accidental discharge by a small propeller. Until the
torpedo travels a certain distance through the water--sufficient for
the resistance against the blades to cause the safety device to
unthread and leave the striker free to hit the primer--the danger of
premature explosion is almost negligible. We shouldn't have time to
revolve the safety blades enough, and I'm pretty certain that even a
heavy blow on the war-head itself would not explode the charge."

"Then I'm done," said Vernon dejectedly. "Think of something, old
man--something that will hold water."

Silence ensued for nearly ten minutes, broken only by the tapping of
the waves against the sides of the submarine, and the gentle purr of
the dynamos for supplying light to the interior of the vessel.

Suddenly Ross leapt out of his bunk. He dared not trust himself to
speak above a whisper for fear of being overheard.

"Dash it all, old man!" exclaimed Vernon, when his chum had confided
his plans; "it ought to work. If it doesn't, nothing else will. I'm
on it, happen what may!"

"We'll want our knives for the job," continued Ross. "Yours will open
easily, I hope? Good! Sharp? We'll run no risks. A sharp blade is
absolutely necessary."

They drew the knives and whetted the blades upon the soles of their
boots. At Vernon's suggestion they kept open the big blades, making a
hole through the lining of their pockets in order to keep the knives in
a horizontal position and ready to hand.

"Now let's turn in properly," suggested the practical Ross. "We want
to be fairly fresh for the job in front of us."

Soon after sunrise on the morrow all hands were mustered aft on deck,
Ross and Vernon included. It was a bright morning. The sun had risen
seemin