The destroyer sped down within hailing distance of the open boat, burning signals of her own meanwhile. Getting on the weather quarter of the castaways, the latter were ordered to pull to the _Colodia_. The boat held only nineteen survivors of the _Newcastle Boy_, a collier that had been torpedoed by a submarine. There had been a second boat, and both had been shelled after the collier sank, and the mate, who was in command of these rescued castaways, feared his captain’s boat was utterly lost. Had the sea not been so rough, he said, the Germans would have succeeded in sinking his boat, too. Whistler was on duty amidships and he overheard much of the report made by the collier’s mate to Lieutenant Commander Lang and the conversation among the officers thereon. He was particularly impressed by the inquiries the destroyer’s commander made regarding the nature of the attack, the type of U-boat that did the deed, and similar details. A close track was kept of all these submarine attacks. The methods of certain submarine commanders could usually be traced. These reports were kept by the British Admiralty and were intended, at the end of the war, to assist in identifying U-boat commanders who had committed atrocities. Those men should, in the end, not escape punishment for their horrid crimes. This attack upon the _Newcastle Boy_ had been particularly brutal. There were four wounded men in the mate’s boat. If the captain’s boat were lost, the missing would total twenty-six. The _Colodia_, swinging in wide circles through the rough sea, remained near the scene of the catastrophe until morning. They discovered no trace of the sunken ship, although the mate declared she had gone down within a mile of the spot where the destroyer had picked up the survivors. But at daybreak the watchful lookouts did spy a broken oar and part of the bow of the captain’s lifeboat--its air-compartment keeping it afloat. No human being was there to be seen, and the conclusion was unescapable that the Hun had done his best to “sink without trace” another helpless boat’s crew. It was mid-afternoon, however, before the _Colodia_ left the vicinity of the tragedy. There was a desire in the hearts of her crew and officers to sight the submarine that had committed this atrocity. Finally, however, the American naval vessel was swung about for port and began to pick up speed. These destroyers never seem to go anywhere at an easy pace; they are always “rushed” in their schedule. Having given up hope of catching the particular submarine that had sunk the _Newcastle Boy_, the _Colodia’s_ lookouts did not, however, fail to watch for other submersibles. Men stationed in the tops, on the bridge, and in both bow and stern, trained keen eyes upon the surrounding sea as the destroyer dashed on her way.