Opening more valves, he scrambled on top of the engines and watched the water pouring in. It rose to the hatch coamings, till only his face was above the surface. Then with a quick heave of his shoulder he pressed against the hatch. The imprisoned air burst out and the water rushed in, sweeping over his face and head. Holding his breath, he thrust again at the hatch, which luckily passed the vertical and fell backwards with a clang. Then he struck out desperately towards the surface. A destroyer steaming along saw a tiny patch of white in the water. It was the face of the hero of the submarine. He was to all intents lifeless, practically dead. Wasting not a moment, they forced the water from him and after a hard struggle succeeded in bringing back to life one of the bravest men who ever breathed. Not without its amusing side was the adventure which befell three unhappy men on an American naval submarine. She was engaged in making a series of cinematograph pictures, and orders were given to prepare for a very rapid dive, known as a crash dive. Two cinema men were still standing on the deck with their cameras, and the commander was in the top half of the conning tower, which was, of course, open. To their consternation the boat began to submerge. Realizing that there had been some misunderstanding, and thinking only of saving his ship and crew from a terrible disaster, the commander, who had no time to enter the ship, shouted to the men to close the hatch under his feet. It was slammed not a moment too soon, and the commander inside the conning tower was carried beneath the surface. His first thought was to escape. He scrambled upwards towards the opening. Something stopped him, held him fast, kept him a prisoner. What had happened was that a projection in the conning tower had caught in his open pocket and was holding him down. Struggling desperately, and swallowing a deal of water, he managed to tear himself free and kick up to the top. Gulping in the fresh air, he looked around him. One cinema man was swimming strongly some little distance away. Of the other, there was no trace. Just as the commander was beginning to give the other man up for lost, the submarine herself reappeared. The commander gazed at her in astonishment, hardly believing his own eyes. With her came the half-drowned cinema man, his arms thrown round his camera and the wireless mast, and clinging to them like grim death. “What the dickens did you go down with her for?” asked the amazed officer, when he was taken aboard. “I couldn’t swim a stroke, so I thought it safer to stick to the ship,” explained the camera man naively. Luckily for him the crew instantly saw that something was wrong and brought the boat up at once.