"Do you suppose we will go all the way over under our own power, or
will we be towed?" Ted was asking.

"Haven't the least doubt but that we'll stand on our own sea legs,"
replied Jack. "Don't you remember how we read in the papers early
in the war of a bunch of submarines put together in the St. Lawrence
River going all the way across to Gibraltar and thence through the
Mediterranean to the Dardanelles under their own power?"

Ted did remember, now that it had been called to his mind. It had
gripped their imagination at the time; it seemed such a wonderful
thing, the fact that submarines small enough to be carried on the
decks of huge liners had been able to cross the Atlantic alone and
unaided. They had been still further amazed by the feats of the
German undersea cargo carrier Deutschland that had made the trip to
America and back, and the U-53 that suddenly popped into Newport one
summer afternoon.

The night dragged along. Now that they were fairly off, Jack and Ted
preferred not to sleep, but rather to keep tabs on the maneuvers of
the American fleet. The sea was calm and the _Dewey_ cruised on the
surface, with her hatches open. The boys were able to stretch
themselves in a promenade on the aft deck and found the night air
invigorating as they speculated together on their mission.

They had soon to find out something of the number and character of
warships in the fleet of which the _Dewey_ was a unit. As daybreak
came stealing up over the horizon they looked about them to discern
many other warships all about them. Far to port, strung out in