"A few," admitted the R.N.R. man modestly; then, pleased at a sudden recollection, he squared his massive shoulders and burst into a hearty roar of laughter. "That reminds me of the last Fritz we scuppered. We had information that a U-boat was knocking around off Bass Rock, playing Old Harry with small coasting craft out of Arbroath and Granton, so we sent out the old s.s. _Niblick_--one of the Pink Funnel Line. She had been sold to a firm of ship-breakers, but when the pinch came they fitted her out again. Well, we followed an hour after the _Niblick_ left Montrose, got within range, and started firing at her, or rather putting shells into the sea within a hundred yards or so. Presently we sighted a periscope. Fritz couldn't quite understand things, since he imagined he was the only U-boat sculling around. But after a while he couldn't resist the temptation of joining in the pursuit, and he blew ballast-tanks and came to the surface at a cable's length broad on our starboard beam. Before he could get to work on the _Niblick_ with his bow quick-firer, he went to the bottom for good and all. It required only one of our torpedoes for that job." "That's the stuff to give 'em!" exclaimed Meredith. "It strikes me, Sub," observed Wakefield, as he stifled a yawn, "that we of the M.L. patrol will have to pack up. There's nothin' doin' for us now the Q-boats are out." "Ever sighted a Fritz?" inquired Morpeth. Wakefield was obliged to confess that he had not. "I'm not surprised," continued the R.N.R. skipper. "Your little packets make too much noise. I wouldn't mind betting that Fritz has had a squint at you many a time through his periscope, and then he's promptly legged it. You're like a fat policeman on the track of a young burglar. It's the moral effect that tells. Before we cover up these beauties I'd like to show you the torpedoes." With a dexterous movement Morpeth opened the breech of one of the tubes. Unlike the standard pattern, which is closed by means of six butterfly nuts, the breech mechanism consisted of an intercepted thread action somewhat similar to that of a quick-firer. "We bagged that idea from the Hun," remarked Morpeth. "Now here is our tinfish: it has a range of only two miles, but quite enough for our purpose. Propulsive force, electric, and no fooling about with compressed air." The M.L. officers examined the well-oiled glistening steel cylinders. In the bright moonlight the missiles looked harmless enough, but it took very little effort of the imagination to picture the fate of a craft torn by the explosion of fifty pounds of gun-cotton and aminol. "The hydrophone-room," announced Morpeth, indicating a hatchway almost amidships. "That's nothing new to you, I'm sure. Here is our engine-room--petrol motors, of course." "And your speed?" asked Wakefield. "We are running normally--twelve knots." "Yes--but all out?"