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Stribling, T. S., 1881-1965

"The Cruise of the Dry Dock"

But, in this instance, when the
submarine dived, the _Vulcan_ would immediately take to the open
lanes and do more than preserve her distance. These constant shifts and
turns explained the ricocheting course that was marked in smoke across
the whitening dawn.
The submarine stood well out of water and skimmed along in the pink
gleam like a long, slender missile. Its flat deck, wireless masts and
conning tower stood etched in black against the morning light. She was
consuming a fairish stretch of open water at a high speed.
"She's game for a long chase," observed Hogan, gently shifting a wounded
arm in its sling.
Leonard Madden replied without removing his eyes from the rushing boat,
"She has to be. All of Germany's naval plans depend on her destroying
us."
"It does--and, faith, may Oi ask why?"
"If we get to Antigua and report this to the British admiralty, how long
would this Sargasso reshipping arrangement last?"
"Right you are there, Misther Madden," agreed Hogan at once. "We'd woipe
'em out, wouldn't we? We'll make it, too. If we stood off th' little
didapper all night, you know we can all day."
Madden considered the fleet little vessel. "No, I rather think she will
capture us."
"And how's that?"
"The Sargasso doesn't extend indefinitely.


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