The officer knew that only a miracle could save some of his crew from being crushed to death when the heavy torpedo struck the little steamer. To move the men to safe parts of the boat was not possible, for it was impossible to say where the projectile would strike.

Perhaps she might change her course and not hit them at all. That seemed to be the only hope now.

Turning their eyes, they saw the motor boat smashing through the sea, throwing the water high from her bows. Dan Davis was leaning well forward, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the engine control, his eyes watching the torpedo and the steamer.

Now he would slow down ever so little, then drive ahead at full speed, as if jockeying to cross the line in an international race.

The ensign was watching him with fascinated interest. He knew that the boy had some daring plan in mind, but what that plan was he could not understand. The officer was on the point of shouting to the Battleship Boy to turn in and push them out of the way, but he refrained.

Dan had thought of this very thing, but he knew the chances were against his being able to do so. He chose a bolder and more brilliant way of saving the boat's crew, or of trying to save them.

The engineer of the motor boat was under the hood watching the engines.

"Get out of there quick!" commanded Dan.

The engineer came tumbling out from his cramped quarters.

"What--what----" he exclaimed.

"Keep still! Don't talk to me. All hands hold fast, for something is going to happen in a minute."

At that instant the lad swung the bow of his boat about, heading it directly toward the course of the advancing torpedo.

"Look out! You'll run into her!" yelled the engineer. "Don't you see she's just under the surface. She'll be on top--there she is now!"

"Stand fast!" roared the boy.

Torpedo and motor boat were driving toward a point where they must surely meet. Now Dan threw the speed full on.

Ere any of those wide-eyed observers realized what was occurring, the crash came.

The prow of the motor boat and the nose of the torpedo met with a crash that was heard far down the line. For a brief instant, projectile and boat rose into the air like two locomotives in a head-on collision.

Dan Davis was lifted clear off his feet and hurled through the air, head first, into the sea. The motor boat settled back and began filling with water, half drowning the two stunned seamen who lay in the bottom of the boat. The torpedo, however, like some living monster of the deep, seemed to shake herself angrily, then she settled down and shot forward, barely grazing the stern of the steamer.

Dan Davis' heroic effort had deflected the torpedo slightly from its course, just enough to cause it to clear the little steamer, thus saving the lives of at least part of the crew aboard her. A life ring at the end of a rope brought Dan out of the salt water not much the worse for his thrilling experience.

"How's the motor boat?" was his first question.

"Pretty hard hit, I guess," answered the ensign. "But that doesn't matter."

The other steamer, having observed that an accident had occurred, put on all steam and hastened to the scene of the wreck. About that time some one discovered that the ship was making signals, and the ensign asked Dan if he felt able to answer them.

For answer the lad asked for a signal flag. One was placed in his hands, together with a spy gla.s.s.

"Battleship asking what the trouble is," he called.

"Tell them."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"And, while you are about it, you might tell them that Seaman Davis, by his quick wit and pluck, saved the steamer and perhaps all our lives."

"Is that a command, sir?"

"No. Only a suggestion," answered the ensign, with an indulgent smile, as he noted the boy's confusion.

"Battleship signaling for motor boat and steamer to return, sir."

"Tell them we both will have to come in in tow, then."

"Orders for second steamer to tow us in, sir."

The ensign gave the order to the other steamer.

While all this was going on a whaleboat had run alongside the motor boat and had taken off the two men who had been left on her. They were more or less dazed, but not seriously hurt. A brief examination of the motor boat's engine developed the fact that the engine had been wrenched loose from its foundation. The nose of the boat had been badly smashed.

Dan was of the opinion, however, that the damage to the boat could be repaired in a day. Things were not nearly so bad as they looked to be at first glance.

The two disabled boats, towed by the steamer, made their way slowly back to the ship.

"This torpedo practice has been a fine piece of business," Dan confided to a shipmate. "It strikes me that this will be a good time to quit, or somebody will get hurt."

"I guess you are IT, then. You'll catch it when the captain sees his motor boat," answered the other, with a laugh.

The captain's lips pursed as, through his gla.s.ses, he made out the broken bow of his boat. He said nothing until Dan and the ensign had boarded the battleship.

"Ensign, who is responsible for the condition of that boat?" he demanded.

The ensign stepped aside and held a few moments' earnest conversation with the commanding officer. As he went on the stern expression on the captain's face gave place to one of admiration. He nodded his head approvingly. Those who did not understand how the motor boat had been wrecked, felt sorry for Seaman Davis. In fact, Dan was beginning to feel sorry for himself, as he realized what he had done.

"Davis, come here!" commanded the captain.

The boy approached, saluting.

"Mr. Brant has told me the story of your brilliant exploit. I congratulate you, my lad."

"I--I am sorry, sir, that I smashed your boat."

"What is the boat when compared to a human life?"

"That--that is what I thought, sir. I did not think you would feel very sorry about the boat when you knew."

"I should say not. But what about your own life? You gave no thought to that, did you?"

"N--no, sir."

"That is the way with all brave men, and that act of yours was one of the bravest I have ever seen. I want every man on board this ship to know about it--to hear the full story. Mr. Coates," beckoning to the executive officer.