: Two blind ships that tried to find each other under water.]

The speaker had had his own adventures with the Germans. A month or so
before, he had shoved up his periscope and spotted a Fritz on the
surface in full noonday. The watchful Fritz, however, had been lucky
enough to see the enemy almost at once, and had dived. The American
followed suit. The eyeless submarine manoeuvred about, some eighty
feet under, the German evidently "making his getaway," the American
hoping to be lucky enough to pick up Fritz's trail, and get a shot at
him when he rose again to the top. And while the two blind ships
manoeuvred there in the dark of the abyss, the keel of the fleeing
German had actually, by a curious chance, scraped along the top of the
American vessel and carried away the wireless aerials!

All were silent for a few seconds, thinking over the affair. It was not
difficult to read the thought in every mind, the thought of _getting at
the Germans_. The characteristic _aggressiveness_ of the American mind,
heritage of a people compelled to subdue a vast, wild continent, is a
wonderful military attribute. The idea of our navy is, "Get after 'em,
keep after 'em, stay after 'em, don't give 'em an instant of security or
rest." And none have this fighting spirit deeper in their hearts than
our gallant boys of the submarine patrol.

"That's all," said Captain Ned. "I'm going to have a wash-up." He lifted
a grease-stained hand to his cheek, rubbed his unshaven beard, and
grinned. "Any letters?"

"Whole bag of stuff. Smithie put it on your desk."

[Sidenote: "Trotzky" and "Rasputin."]

Captain Ned wandered off. Presently, the door opened again, and three
more veterans of the patrol cruised in, also in ancient uniforms. There
were more cheers; more friendly cries. It was unanimously decided that
the "Trotzky" of the first lot had better take a back seat, since the
second in command of the newcomers was "a perfect ringer for Rasputin."

"See anything?"

[Sidenote: A British patrol hunts a lost torpedo.]

"Nothing much. There's a bit of wreckage just off shore. Saw a British
patrol boat early Tuesday morning. I was on the surface, lying between
her and the sunrise; she was hidden by a low-lying swirl of fog; she saw
us first. When we saw her, I made signals, and over she came. Guess what
the old bird wanted--_wanted to know if I'd seen a torpedo he'd fired at
me!_ An old scout with white whiskers; one of those retired captains