'
'Plenty here, Horan,' said Williams, the torpedo coxswain, holding up a
couple of the big regulation Navy revolvers. 'It's all right. We've got
all we want. Come along in, you two soldiers.'
Ken and Roy tumbled aboard the boat, other three of the ex-prisoners, who
were too old or infirm to be any use as fighters, were hastily transferred
to the submarine.
Inside of three minutes all was ready, the warp was cast off, and the
steel hatch in the conning tower dropped with a clang. In a trice G2 began
to sink, and within an incredibly short space of time she had dipped out
of sight beneath the sea, and the boat lay alone on the surface, rocking
slightly to the send of the small gray waves.
For the first time Ken had leisure to glance round at his companions.
Including Roy, himself, Williams, and Johnston, the full number was
twenty-three, and of them all there was not one who did not look keen and
eager for the fray. All had suffered at the hands of the enemy, some had
lost all they had in the world.
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