Madden climbed up on the bridge beside Caradoc.
"How long before the submarine will be out?" he asked in a low tone.
"Small boats will come first," replied Smith. "That's why they shunted
off the searchlight--to surprise us."
"Will they try to board us?"
"Certainly. We'll have to defend ourselves with anything we can pick up,
sticks, knives, hand spikes--"
At that moment Malone appeared from the other end of the bridge.
"We'll have steam up in an hour," he announced, glancing up at the
funnel.
"An hour?" thought Madden. "That's time enough for us all to be killed."
Caradoc said to the mate: "Go forward and tell the men to arm
themselves, then take position along the rail to repel boarders. Tell
them to look sharp for grappling hooks and throw them down."
"And what will they arm with, sir?"
"Use anything you can find, hand spikes, knives, sticks. They might
throw lumps of coal. A cricket player ought to give a good account with
a lump of coal."
"Very well, sir," grunted Malone and he hurried down on deck.
A few minutes later the men were scurrying around to their positions.
One or two men had gone down for a sack of coal, a queer ammunition that
might possibly effect something. On the other hand, Leonard knew the
attacking force would come armed with mausers, rapid fire guns,
grappling hooks, swords.
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