Down, down, down sank the _Dewey_ as her valves were opened and the
sea surged into the ballast tanks. The periscopes had been well out
of water when the destroyer had first been sighted. It was now a race
between two cool and cunning naval officers---the German to hurl his
vessel full upon the American submarine and deal it a death blow; the
American skipper to outwit and outmaneuver his antagonist by putting
the _Dewey_ down where she would be safe from the steel nose of the
destroyer.

Although no word was spoken to the crew, they could sense the situation
by the sharp commands emanating from the conning tower and the celerity
with which the navigating officer and his assistant were working the
ballast pumps.

Great beads of perspiration stood out on the forehead of Officer Binns
as he stood over the array of levers and gave directions, first to ship
ballast in one tank, and then in another, shifting the added weight
evenly so as not to disturb the equilibrium of the _Dewey_ and cause
her to go hurtling to the bottom, top heavy in either bow or stern.

Nearly two minutes were necessary to get the little undersea craft
down far enough to evade the prow of the oncoming destroyer, and even
then the conning tower furnished a target that might be crushed by the
nose of the enemy ship and precipitate an avalanche of water into the
hold---with disaster for the men assembled at their posts of duty.

"They are right on top of us now," screamed Sammy Smith as he hugged
the microphone receivers to his ears.