Armed yachts and fast motor-boats displayed their sea-keeping qualities as never before, and to these were added capacities as auxiliary fighting vessels. One of the former picked up an S O S signal. The sender proved to be a trader, and at no great distance from her was a periscope. The enemy was just a little too late in getting under, for the ‘eye’ had scarcely disappeared when the yacht cut right across her back. A couple of depth charges were thrown out to complete the business, and the yacht was swung round to cross the spot again after the explosion had subsided, when a peculiar disturbance was noticed in another direction. A third depth charge added considerably to the turmoil. As the sailors watched a human form came to the surface. The ‘peculiar disturbance’ was doubtless the death-rattle of the U-boat, and as she broke in halves the solitary survivor was flung up. He did not live to relate his terrible experience. The celebrated submarine-chasers, while they varied in design, were usually stubby craft mounting a remarkably serviceable quick-firer on a high forecastle and carrying a liberal supply of ‘pills’ in the stern. As the range of the former was about three and a half miles, and the engines were capable of attaining a speed of thirty or more knots an hour in calm weather, a submarine was at considerable disadvantage unless she managed to deliver the first blow. Should a U-boat consider it worth while to risk a fight on the surface or attempt to torpedo the ‘weasel’ from below, the speed of the chaser was obviously her greatest asset. Italian chasers, by the way, resembled small submarines, minus the conning-tower; those of France were very similar to our own. When the United States entered the war one of President Wilson’s first measures was to order the construction of a large number of these vessels. Many of the motor launches in the Service were commanded by former amateur yachtsmen, who soon became hardy seafarers. Pluck, energy, and resource characterized their hazardous work. “Day after day, year after year,” as a senior naval officer reports, “they have kept the sea in the worst weather when other craft have had to run for shelter.” One story must suffice as typical of many others. Three motor launches of the Auxiliary Patrol were forging ahead one morning when a look-out saw certain movements known as ‘white feathers,’ sure indications of the presence of a U-boat. The Germans led them many miles afield in their effort to escape. The launches hung on, and gradually worked themselves into a position which cornered the submersible. Overboard went several depth charges, followed by convulsions and the end of the ‘spasm’—naval for submarine chase.