All that night the pumps driven by the engines of the Anti-Kaiser worked with unerring certainty, and appeared to feel the important work; every exhaust, powerful and distinct, pronouncing a new life, a new ambition, a wonderful achievement for Fighting Howard Byng.

After daylight we could visualize results. Below we could easily distinguish what seemed a rather nebulous, long, dark shadow in the sea. Howard went down and found that the U-boat was raising at the rate of a foot per hour, and a total of sixty hours would be required before it would reach the surface.

Now new troubles threatened. The weather that had so graciously favored us for almost a week looked ominous. Howard, who knew all about Gulf weather, scanned the sky and shook his head.

"I believe we are in for it. But the way we're anchored now our bow is all right. It's going to come from out there," he said, pointing toward the northwest.

Another anchor was carried out and every precaution taken while the pumps still chugged with perfect rhythm, and gloriously labored toward the goal for which we prayed. The U-boat now hung in suspension in the clear Gulf water, and was slowly but surely raising to our will, but should the hose connection break, having no check valve, it would immediately fill and sink. Everyone was alert and strained for the emergency. Additional hawsers lashed it fore and aft to the Anti-Kaiser to guard against being shifted by submarine currents that mysteriously form during storms.

It finally came, a veritable hurricane, lasting, fortunately, only about five hours. Wind sixty miles per hour brought solid sheets of water, twisting and undulating as if to wreak vengeance and try our hearts.

During the storm Howard moved about constantly, solemn and determined, examining every detail, forcing the pumps to unflinching performance by sheer power of his adamant will though the storm raged.

I do actually believe machinery, commonly thought to be inanimate, answers to a strong will, literally driven to good behavior and specific performance by the silent, fierce, compelling determination and psychic force of the man in control. Locomotives are especially so sensitive, proven by thousands of authentic instances.

Scotty, like the perfectly trained naval mariner, also defied the storm and for no moment ceased his patrol on the deck, peering for dangers approaching through the angry whirling sheets.

The sea calmed, as did our nervous strain, without a mishap, and the work of the pumps went merrily on, at no time halting a part of a second, as if defying the elements to defeat them in their patriotic and useful purpose.

Near sundown Howard wanted to descend and examine the wreck at close range. I began on the hand air-pump again which had to move with the precision and regularity of respiration. It would become tiresome if one did not know that such rhythm were necessary to a human life below. In this case I believed a most wonderful life.

He stayed down a long time, but when he came up he was more exultant and jubilant than ever before.

"Wood, in the better light I have been examining her hull for breaks, both inside and outside, and for the life of me I can find nothing wrong. I believe the bombs simply put their air or water pumps out of commission. That's why they were trapped down there. She is raising now on an almost even keel. She is ours, Wood; she is ours, and she will float as good as ever when the water is all out!" he urged with the vehemence of a man who was told he could live and return to a congenial sphere into the great world of usefulness with his name again. A name and fortune for little Jim, whom he loved so consumingly and singly that she was a part of him—his blood, his child, his chum and companion.

His enthusiasm was contagious; I got it. Besides, I exulted on my own account. To bring such tangible evidence into a court of law and the world's tribunal of such stupendous importance raised my operations to a magnitude unequaled, and must without effort attract attention of "The All Highest." I had developed from two warrants for minor offenses a matter in which the whole world was intensely interested. With these ruminations came the thought of safety. We had the Hun boat. We could see it. Another day and its conning tower would be out, and another ought to enable us to tow her away. And we were insufficiently protected.

"Howard, we must not depend on the protection of the guns on this boat. Too much is at stake. We should have a patrol that will prevent any boat or vessel coming within at least three miles. The Titian is too small. Your Sprite would be the thing. She is big enough to mount the five-pound gun to enforce such a limit to all vessels."

"How are we going to get her; she is anchored in the bay at home."

"Can the old darkey, Don, run the Sprite, do you think?"

"Yes, almost as well as I can."

"I have been out of touch with Washington now for nearly forty-eight hours, and should go to Key West to get a line on what is happening. Suppose I take him in the little Titian, call at Canby's, leave him to bring the Sprite, and go on to Key West. I ought to be back here in three or four hours."

"Fine, but put the juice to the Titian; she can fly if you give her the gas. You're right: we ought to have the Sprite to patrol and also ought to know what the Boche is up to outside, if anything," he agreed quickly.

During the night the pumps worked unceasingly with a punch and force, imparted by Howard's care and vigilance. As the last word in Boche submarine ships came nearer the surface, he seemed to actually scorn either sleep or rest and took his food while walking about vigilantly. He realized it was a supreme moment. Energies he had stored by a comparatively quiet existence for years he used unstintingly.

Before daylight the next morning I took Don in the Titian to Canby's, saw him on his way from there with the Sprite, then rushed to Key West and established communication at once with the powers that be.

I was told that every branch of the Government was intensely interested in the development which bade fair to uncover craven, cringing Mexico and many traitorous, treasonable concerns protected by citizenship, and was enjoined to great care and secrecy.

Then I asked to have at least two marines detached from the special guard service in Key West for my use as I was short of man power on which I could depend.

For this they gave the necessary order. They wirelessed me that Ramund and three others, upon being released on bail, had, after a day or two, taken an evident underground rail route to Mexico. The Government agents were out of touch with Washington, owing to difficulties furnished by Mexican conditions. The Boches were forfeiting their bail, or up to deviltry, or both.

This bit of information did not please me, for I saw disturbing possibilities. I picked up the daily papers, mail and the two marines, and hurried back to the Tortugas, which I reached about noon time by forcing the Titian to her limit.

The marines were lusty fellows, full of ginger. Yes, they both had had target gun practice. I was glad of that.

The five-pound gun was quickly transferred to the deck of Howard's Sprite. We put Scotty, who, of course, was an expert with motor-driven boats, and one of the marines aboard her with instructions to encircle constantly our operations, at a three-mile limit, to use the gun to prevent vessels of any character approaching us. The other marine was put in Scotty's place on the Anti-Kaiser and I felt pretty safe. So did Howard.

Wonderful progress was made while I was away. The conning tower was all out and the oval back of the submarine was awash. Howard was haggard, but walking on air. He had calculated that before night the submerging tanks would be empty, then we could transfer the pumps to the engine-room and crew's quarters aft. It wouldn't take long to make her fit for towing.

About dusk Scotty came in for food, and said he would be willing to stay out on the Sprite patrolling until midnight, and then, if relieved for four hours, would resume.

Just before dark Howard did transfer the pump to the after hold, the engine-room and crew's quarters and it began throwing a merry stream, every throb bringing us nearer the end of our task and goal.

I tried to get Howard to sleep some, but he only laughed.

"When we are through I will have months to sleep."

I did not tell him what a filthy condition existed in Mexico, and how long it would be before we would be compelled to put the cleaner on her. She was pro-Hun to the core and somehow I did not like the fact that Ramund was there now and only a day or two sail from us.

Darkness had set in with a cloudy sky. Everything went well until about time for Scotty to report at midnight when the marine on guard saw something over the port bow; it looked like a vessel coming, without lights.

"What do you think it is?" Howard asked anxiously.

"I can't make out but it's something and it's getting plainer. I wonder where Scotty is with the Sprite?" The marine stood at attention by the side of the one-pounder in the bow. The submarine was riding easy just clear of the Anti-Kaiser's sides.

We finally recognized the outlines of a vessel advancing, and apparently a big one, too. It was not moving fast but was surely approaching, bearing directly down on us. Our port and starboard lights were surely visible to them and they could certainly see them in time to clear us.

"What can we do but fire on her? She will be on top of us in another minute!" shouted Howard, fully alive to the danger.

I called to the marine to let a shot go directly at her, which he did instantly, then another and another, but the little one-pound shots apparently made as much impression on her iron bow as water on a duck's back, and she did not veer a fraction of a point, coming dead on us. When she got closer I could make out she was undoubtedly a big merchantman, perhaps eight or ten thousand tons. How I prayed for Scotty to be here and give her a dose of a five-pound gun. But seconds counted now, our danger was extreme, and we were wholly helpless. On she came, moving perhaps at the rate of twelve knots. She could not possibly keep such a course by mistake for the one-pound gun made enough noise in the silent midnight Gulf to awaken the dead.

Howard was not excited. He made a step toward the marine waiting for another order to fire, then stopped and seemed to measure our chances. He appeared to be taking inventory of the damage the great blunt bow would do during the few seconds before she struck the Anti-Kaiser wrecking boat a glancing blow forward that brought her over on her beam's end, snapping the hawsers that fastened us to the submarine, as through cotton strings or cobwebs.

Howard and the marine grasped the one-pounder to keep from sliding down the now vertical decks of the Anti-Kaiser into the sea, I being just as fortunate in getting my arm through a hawser eye.

Her dull black iron sides seemed an age getting out of the way, leaving the Anti-Kaiser trembling and rocking like a chip on the white caps.

Both Howard and I rushed to the side to ascertain if possible what was undoubtedly a deliberate attempt to run us down, murder us and steal the prize we had labored so long and arduously to raise from the floor of the sea.

Where was Scotty with the Sprite and five-pound gun? Had he turned traitor and played into their hands?