legraph under the second mate's hand went
over to full speed; Captain Streight rolled heavily out of his bunk,
flipped his feet mechanically into sea-boots and came stamping forward.
First Torpooner Kenneth Torrance, as he sat up and stretched, heard the
usual crisp question:

"Where away?"

"Five points off sta'b'd bow, sir; quarter-mile away; swimming slow."

"How large a school?"

"Couldn't say, sir. Looks around a dozen."

"Whew!" whistled Ken Torrance. "That's a strike!" He pulled on a sweater
and strode forward to the scope-screen to see for himself, even as
Captain Streight, all at once testy with eagerness, bawled:

"Sta'b'd five! Torpoon ready, Mister Torrance! Mister Torr--oh, here you
are. Take a look."

* * * * *

Never in the two years of experience which had brought him to the
important post of first torpooner had Ken failed to thrill at the sight
which now met his eyes. Directly ahead, now that the _Narwhal's_ bow was
turned in pursuit, but veering slowly to port, swam a pack of the twenty
to thirty-foot dolphins which are called "killer whales," their bodies
so close-pressed that they seemed to be an undulating wave of black,
occasionally sliced with white as the fluke-thrusts brought their
bellies into view. Their speed through the shadowed, gloomy water was
equal to the submarine's; when alarmed, it would almost double.

"Three more of 'em will fill our tanks," grunted Streight, his chunky
face almost glowing. He bit on a plug of tobacco, his eyes never moving
from the screen. "Now, if only we hadn't lost Beddoes.... Y' think you
can bag three, Mister Torrance?"

"Well, if three'll fill our tanks--sure!" grinned Ken.

The other's eyebrows twitched suddenly. "They're speeding up!" he
shouted, and then: "That torpoon ready, there? Good." His voice lowered
again as Ken pulled his belt a notch tighter and snatched a last glimpse
of the fish before leaving. "I want you to try for three, son," he said
soberly: "but--be careful. Don't take fool chances, and keep alert.
Remember Beddoes."

Ken nodded and walked to the torpoon catapult, hearing Streight's
familiar send-off echoed by the men of the crew who were nearby:

"Good hunting!"

* * * * *

The idea of an underwater craft for the pursuit of killer
whales--tremendously valuable since the discovery of valuable medicinal
qualities in their oil--had been scoffed at by the majority of the