Not half an hour had elapsed when the lookout reported a blur on the horizon that, despite the mist of early morning, was easily discernible as the smoke of several vessels under forced draft. Very soon the head of the column loomed over the horizon---a German cruiser in the lead---followed closely by a destroyer that was belching forth dense black smoke from its funnels. "They are making for home under a smoke screen from their destroyers, and I'll bet some of our ships are not very far away either," was Lieutenant McClure's observation as he stood surveying the field of action through his glass. "Yes, and that destroyer there is probably the chap who nearly ran us down last night," added Executive Officer Cleary. Lieutenant McClure nodded assent and then turned toward Jack, who had been watching the approaching Germans from a position on deck just aft the conning tower. The _Dewey's_ commander motioned the young seaman to climb into the steering station. "I want you to stand right by and act as my aide," said McClure. "That goes, not only now, but until further orders. You and Mr. Wainwright will relieve each other as my aides. Go below and tell Chief Engineer Blaine we are about to close in on the Huns and want all the speed possible during the next hour or so." Jack saluted and lowered away into the conning tower hatch. As he climbed down into the hull he heard the sound of heavy cannonading across the water. It was certain now that a running fight was in progress and that behind the veil of the black German destroyer smoke were allied warships. The retreating column was well off the port bow and racing eastward toward the shelter of the big guns at Heligoland. Coming up out of the south the American submarine had run at right angles into the line of the Hun retreat. The _Dewey_ held a strategic position. She viewed the approaching squadron as though looking down the hypotenuse of the angle. The Germans were speeding along the base. The _Dewey_ had but to slip down the perpendicular to intercept the panicky Prussians. And that was just what Lieutenant McClure proposed doing. All hands were ordered below and the hatches sealed. Running on the surface, the oil engines were put to their best endeavor and the _Dewey_ cleft the whitecaps at her best speed. "Go forward, Mr. Hammond, and inquire of Chief Gunner Mowrey how many torpedoes we have aboard," ordered Lieutenant McClure. Jack hurried away and returned in a few minutes to report that all four tubes were loaded and two auxiliary Whiteheads in the racks. The _Dewey's_ torpedo range was two miles, but her commander preferred to be within less than six hundred yards for a sure shot.