But the telephone call that went unanswered for probably two or three minutes, none can tell the exact time, was sent by the lookout stationed forward to the first officer of the watch on the bridge of the great liner on the maiden voyage. The lookout saw a towering “blue berg” looming up in the sea path of the Titanic, the latest and proudest product of marine architecture, and called the bridge on the ship’s telephone. When after the passing of those two or three fateful minutes an officer on the bridge of the Titanic lifted the telephone receiver from its hook to answer the lookout it was too late. The speeding liner, cleaving a calm sea under a star-studded sky, had reached the floating mountain of ice, which the theoretically “unsinkable” ship struck a crashing, if glancing, blow with her starboard bow. Had the officer on the bridge, who was William T. Murdock, according to the account of the tragedy given by two of the Titanic’s seamen, known how imperative was that call from the lookout man, whose name was given as Fleet, the man at the wheel of the world’s newest and greatest transatlantic liner might have swerved the great ship sufficiently to avoid the berg altogether or at the worst would have probably struck the mass of ice with her stern and at much reduced speed. For obvious reasons the identity of the sailormen who described the foundering of the Titanic cannot be divulged. As for the officer, who was alleged to have been a laggard in answering the lookout’s telephone call, harsh criticism may be omitted. Murdock, if the tale of the Titanic sailor be true, expiated his negligence, if negligence it was, by shooting himself within sight of all alleged victims huddled in lifeboats or struggling in the icy seas. THE “UNWRITTEN LAW” OF THE SEA. The revolver which the sailors say snuffed out Murdock’s life was not the only weapon that rang out above the shrieks of the drowning. Officers of the Titanic, upon whom devolved the duty of seeing that the “unwritten law” of the sea--“women and children first”--was enforced, were, according to the recital of the members of the great liner’s crew, forced to shoot frenzied male passengers, who, impelled by the fear of death, attempted to get into the lifeboats swinging from their davits. The sailors’ account of the terrific impact of the Titanic against the berg that crossed the path was as follows: “It was 11.40 P. M. Sunday, April 14. Struck an iceberg. The berg was very dark and about 250 feet in height. “The Titanic struck the berg a glancing blow on the starboard bow. The ship, which was traveling between twenty and twenty-three knots an hour, crashed into the berg at a point about forty feet back of the stem. “The Titanic’s bottom was torn away to about fore bridge. The tear was fully fifty feet in length and was below the water line.” Regarding the state of the sea and the character of the night the sailors declared: