Executive Officer Cleary at the reserve periscope was first to detect
the mass of steel looming up out of the darkness. Lieutenant McClure
swung his periscope several degrees to starboard and drew a bead on the
German warship an instant later.

"We'll drop this chap just as he shoots across our bow," declared the
_Dewey's_ commander.

Five hundred yards away came the speeding warship. It was close
enough now for the American officers to make out her outlines in
detail and to satisfy themselves that this was another member of the
raiding party out of the great German naval base in back of Heligoland.

"All right, here goes," shouted the doughty Yankee skipper a moment
later as the German cruiser drew up until her bow edged into the circle
that McClure had marked off on the periscope as the exact spot on
which to aim his fire.

Swish! went the torpedo as it shot from the bow of the _Dewey_ and
straightened out in the water on its foamy trail, cutting through
the sea like a huge swordfish.

It took only a moment---an interval of time during which the torpedo
from the American submarine and the German cruiser seemed irresistibly
drawn toward each other. And then came the crash---the impact of the
torpedo's war-nose against the steel side of the cruiser, the
detonation of the powerful explosive, the rending of the German hull.

And then, loud enough for his crew forward to hear his words, McClure