The disturbances made on the water by these "ash cans" gradually subsided; to all outward appearances the submarine had escaped unharmed. The _Fanning_ and the _Nicholson_ completed their circles and came back to the danger spot, the officers and crew eagerly scanning the surface for the usual oil patch and air bubbles, even hoping for a few pieces of wreckage--those splintered remnants of the submarine's wooden deck that almost invariably indicated a considerable amount of damage. But none of these evidences of success, or half-success, rose to the surface; for ten or fifteen minutes everything was as quiet as the grave. Then something happened which occurred only a few times in this strange war. The stern of a submarine appeared out of the water, tilted at about thirty degrees, clearly revealing its ugly torpedo tubes. Then came the conning-tower and finally the entire boat, the whole hull taking its usual position on the surface as neatly and unconcernedly as though no enemies were near. So far as could be seen the U-boat was in perfect condition. Its hull looked intact, showing not the slightest indication of injury; the astonished officers and men on the destroyers could easily understand now why no oil or wreckage had risen to the top, for the _U-58_--they could now see this inscription plainly painted on the conning-tower--was not leaking, and the deck showed no signs of having come into contact even remotely with a depth charge. The _Fanning_ and the _Nicholson_ began firing shells at the unexpected visitant, and the _Nicholson_ extended an additional welcome in the form of a hastily dropped "ash can." Suddenly the conning-tower of the submarine opened and out popped the rotund face and well-fed form of Kapitän-Leutnant Gustav Amberger, of the Imperial German Navy. The two arms of the Herr Kapitän immediately shot heavenward and the Americans on the destroyers could hear certain guttural ejaculations: "Kamerad! Kamerad!" A hatchway now opened, and a procession of German sailors emerged, one after the other, into the sunshine, like ants crawling out of their hole. As each sailor reached the deck he straightened up, lifted his arms, and shouted: "Kamerad! Kamerad! Kamerad!" In all four officers and thirty-five men went through this ceremony. Were they really surrendering themselves and their boat, or did these gymnastic exercises conceal some new form of German craftiness? The American ships ceased firing; the _Fanning_ gingerly approached the submarine, while the _Nicholson_ stood by, all her four-inch guns trained upon the German boat, and the machine-guns pointed at the kamerading Germans, ready to shoot them into ribbons at the first sign that the surrender was not a genuine one.