He looked around at the men in the crew. They held on and they listened, but they did not look frightened. Larry grinned at him. “Lousy aim they’ve got,” he said. “They’re not coming very close.” “What about a little zigzagging?” March asked. “No, we might zig or zag into something,” Larry said. “They obviously haven’t located us and are just dropping at random. Also, we’re deep enough to be below the explosions. After all, the biggest force of the blow is above the exploding charge. We’ll just keep sliding along the way we’re going. They’ll give up after a while.” The charges exploded regularly, but not for long. Soon they hardly felt a jar when one went off. “They think we’re hanging around back there for a look,” Larry said. “They don’t know how safe we play. I’m not going back for my look for two hours. So just keep going.” They did keep going, and for two hours. By the time they circled around and came back toward the island there were no more depth charges. About a mile away they surfaced quickly and the Skipper took a quick look. Then the ’scope went down and March ordered another dive. “Sorry you couldn’t have had a look, March,” Larry said, “but I didn’t—” He was interrupted by a shaking roar that almost spilled him off his feet. March, who had one hand against the bulkhead, grabbed him. “As I was saying,” Larry went on with a smile, “I didn’t want to keep the ’scope up any longer than I had to. They spotted it pretty fast, didn’t they?” Another roar was the answer, followed by another and another, and half a dozen more. They were bad shocks, worse than those they had experienced at first, but the sub had got down fast enough to get away from the worst effects. “What did you see?” March asked between blasts. “Listen,” Larry said. He took the interphone and gave his news to the whole ship. “Tanker down—only the bow showing, oil-covered water blazing over the entire bay. Total loss for the Nips on that one. Troopship looks half busted in two, but still afloat, though listing badly. No men on her. Plenty of bodies in the water. Lots got ashore, I’m sure, but plenty got burned in the oil trying to make it.” A loud cheer rose through the ship as Larry handed the phone back to the orderly. “Well, anyway,” he said. “It was certainly worth four torpedoes!” As the _Kamongo_ slid down through the dark waters, the depth charges grew less intense. Finally they got away from them entirely, and resumed the course for their southwest Pacific base. “Don’t let that fool you,” Larry said, as they sat in the wardroom having a cup of coffee. “There weren’t any sound detectors there, so we got away pretty easily. When the destroyers are after you, they _follow_ you—and their depth charges are bigger. This was a setup!” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER THIRTEEN SCOOT MEETS TWO ZEROS