"Now, Eph," glowed Jack, "we're going to see the thing we've so often
dreamed about! We'll see that dummy torpedo leap forth, like a real
one. For a little way, at least, we ought to see the track of the
torpedo."
"Feel like betting the dummy will bit the scow?" questioned young Somers,
half doubtfully.
"Of course it will," retorted Jack Benson, scornfully, "with naval
experts on the job!"
Lieutenant Danvers gave the firing signal.
In the silence that followed, the two submarine boys hanging over the
nose of the boat heard just a muffled click below. Then--
"There it goes!" shouted Jack Benson, with all the glee in the world.
Down beneath them, under the nose of the "Hastings" an object shot into
brief view. First the war-head, then the middle, then the tail and
propeller of a fourteen-foot Whitehead torpedo swept away from them,
two or three feet below the surface of the waves. A line of bubbles
came to the surface, showing that the torpedo was headed, straight and
clean, for the stone-laden scow over on the ocean.
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