'
'Then come along forrard, and we'll see what cooky can do for you.'
Cooky's efforts consisted in biscuit, butter, sardines, jam, and lashings
of hot strong tea, to all of which Ken did the fullest justice.
'And how d'ye like life under the ocean wave?' asked Williams, who was
watching Ken's progress with the eye of a connoisseur.
'First time I ever tried it,' said Ken, glancing round the long, narrow
interior which seemed merely a packing case for a maze of intricate
machinery. 'What is she? What class I mean?'
'She's G 2, sonny, and don't you forget it. The last word in submarine
gadgets. Twenty knots on the surface, and twelve submerged. Carries eight
o' the biggest and best torpedoes, any one o' which is warranted to knock
the stuffing out o' the "Goeben" or any other o' Weeping Willy's
super-skulkers.'
'Where are we now?' inquired Ken with interest.
'Couldn't say precisely. But somewheres about ten fathom below the shinin'
surface of the Dardanelles.'
Ken felt a queer thrill.
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