The wireless messages from the _Que Vida_ had ceased hours before. That afternoon they sighted a regular flotilla of small boats on the quiet sea and knew at once that the submarine had again been at work. This time, however, the Germans had been more merciful than usual to the crew of the sunken ship. Nevertheless the two life crafts and four boats were a long way from either Fayal or Funchal. The sea was quiet, but the German submarine commander did not know it would remain so. He had gone directly contrary to international law in deserting these people. They proved to be the crew and passengers of the _Que Vida_, more than twenty-four hours in the boats. The captain had been carried away, a prisoner, by the huge submarine that had attacked the steamship from Buenos Aires. The story of the chief officer of the lost ship was illuminating. The _Que Vida_ might have escaped the Germans, being a fast vessel, had it not been for the fact that the former appeared to be a merchant ship, and flew a neutral flag, as did the _Que Vida_. This enabled the submersible to get within gunfire range. Suddenly she revealed her guns fore and aft and threw several shells at the Argentine vessel. The latter was then so close that she was obliged to capitulate immediately. The German then ran down nearer and ordered her victims to abandon ship within half an hour. She sent a boat for the captain of the merchant vessel. When the boats and rafts were afloat, a boatload of Germans on their way to put bombs aboard the _Que Vida_ stopped and pillaged each boatload of victims, taking their money, jewelry, any other valuables they fancied, and especially pilfering the woolen garments of both men and women. The _Que Vida_ carried some coin and her captain was evidently made to tell of this. The Germans searched the ship before putting the time bombs in her hold. “Then, Señores,” said the chief officer, in concluding his story, “when the poor _Que Vida_ was sunken, the great submarine steamed away with Señor Capitan di Cos. Perhaps they have killed him. “But we--Well, you see us. That gr-reat submarine is the most wonderful ship. I would not myself have believed she could submerge did I not see her go down with my own eyes not a mile away from our flotilla. “And three hundred feet long she is, I assure you! As long as this destroyer, Señores. A so wonderful boat!” “Once we drop a depth bomb over her, we’ll knock her into a cocked hat, big as she is,” growled one of the _Colodia’s_ petty officers in Whistler’s hearing. “And the captain of the Spanish ship--what of him?” murmured the Seacove lad. The taking aboard of the wrecked ship’s company caused considerable excitement on the destroyer. These torpedo boat destroyers do not have many comforts to offer passengers, women, especially. “Cracky, Whistler!” observed Al Torrance to his chum, “there are girls come aboard the old destroyer. What do you know about that?”