"Have we plenty of coal, mate?"
"Bunkers are 'arf full, sir."
"What's she turning over now?"
"Six, seventy-five to th' minute, sir." There was a pause, then Malone
asked, "Is there any 'opes of _them_ running out o' fuel?"
"Not likely; they make the trip to Hamburg, you know."
They were just turning into the smelly galley, when a startled voice
sang out forward:
"Sail ahoy!"
This stopped the trio instantly.
"Where away?" called Caradoc.
"Dead ahead, sor!"
All three turned and went running back updeck. When they regained the
bridge, Madden stared in the direction indicated. At first the western
horizon looked empty, then along its level line his eye caught two tiny
marks against the brilliant sky. As it was too small for his naked eyes,
he resorted to the binoculars once more. Caradoc was doing the same
thing.
"W'ot is it, sir?" inquired Malone anxiously.
When he had focused his glasses, Madden made out two fighting
tops--steel baskets circling steel masts, thrust up menacingly over
the slope of the world.
"W'ot is it, sir?" repeated Malone uneasily.
Just then Madden's eye caught the flag at the peak, as it fluttered
under the drive of the distant ship. It was the black cross on the white
ground, with the dark upper left quarter of the German navy.
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