"We ought to get away now if we are to get off at all," Jack overheard Lieutenant McClure say to Cleary after mess kits had been stowed and preparations were under way for the "big drive." In a few minutes more the _Dewey_ was primed for the test. Soon the clatter of machinery aft indicated that the engines were in motion. "Back away!" was the signal flashed to the engine room. Instantly the full power of the motors was turned into the giant shafts and the propellors threshed the ocean with the fury of a wounded whale. With all the might she possessed the submarine strove to free herself and float away to freedom. Thrice were the engines stopped and started again. But every time the quivering submarine failed to move an inch! CHAPTER XV THE HUMAN TORPEDO "Looks as though we were up against it," remarked Executive Officer Cleary to his chief as the _Dewey's_ engines died down into silence. Lieutenant McClure, his youthful face wrinkled in deep thought, looked up apprehensively. "A very serious situation," he mumbled. He spoke with marked gravity now, and there was no response from the executive officer, nor from Navigating Officer Binns, as they stood quietly and rigidly at attention, awaiting orders. Inquiry in the engine room brought the information that the batteries had been greatly depleted by the tremendous exertions of the _Dewey_. The supply of "juice" certainly could not last much longer. What next? Instinctively every man aboard the doomed ship was asking himself the question. It was only too manifest that the _Dewey_ had run hard aground. The best that could be hoped for now was that the shifting currents of the sea might wash the submarine free before death overwhelmed her imprisoned crew. "Make yourselves as comfortable as possible; we are not done for yet---not by a jugful," essayed McClure bravely as he sauntered into the torpedo room where Chief Gunner Mowrey and his men were assembled in hushed discussion of the _Dewey's_ plight. Immediately "Little Mack" was surrounded by his men. They asked him all manner of questions. "Remember first, last, and always that you are Americans and members of the United States Navy," continued their commanding officer. "We have air supply in the reserve tanks sufficient to stay here for many hours yet without danger of suffocation; and in the meantime quite a number of things can happen." Despite their commander's cheery remarks there was little comfort in his words. Trusting implicitly their gallant chief, every man aboard the stranded submarine was keenly alive to the seriousness of the situation and mentally figuring on the possibilities of escape from the prison ship in case it was found at last impossible to float the vessel. The boys knew their dauntless commander, in a final extremity, would resort to heroic measures of escape rather than allow his men to be suffocated and overwhelmed by a slow death in their trap of steel.