A German was standing near Bradley--just in front of him.
The Englishman struck the fellow a frantic blow upon the neck
and at the same time snatched his pistol from its holster.
Von Schoenvorts had recovered from his first surprise quickly
and had turned toward the main hatch to investigate. I covered
him with my revolver, and at the same instant the torpedo struck
the raider, the terrific explosion drowning the German's command
to his men.

Bradley was now running from one to another of our men, and
though some of the Germans saw and heard him, they seemed too
stunned for action.

Olson was below, so that there were only nine of us against eight
Germans, for the man Bradley had struck still lay upon the deck.
Only two of us were armed; but the heart seemed to have gone out
of the boches, and they put up but half-hearted resistance.
Von Schoenvorts was the worst--he was fairly frenzied with rage
and chagrin, and he came charging for me like a mad bull, and as
he came he discharged his pistol. If he'd stopped long enough to
take aim, he might have gotten me; but his pace made him wild,
so that not a shot touched me, and then we clinched and went to
the deck. This left two pistols, which two of my own men were
quick to appropriate. The Baron was no match for me in a
hand-to-hand encounter, and I soon had him pinned to the deck
and the life almost choked out of him.

A half-hour later things had quieted down, and all was much the
same as before the prisoners had revolted--only we kept a much