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Updated: May 23, 2025
"But don't worry if they do not answer at once. This is a big piece of land, this island." Whistler and Torry shouted loudly; but after fifteen minutes they were hoarse, and the wind seemed to blow their voices back into their teeth. "Save your breath to cool your porridge," advised Jemmy. "You're wastin' it. If ye shout from now till doomsday ye won't bring them back if they're drowned.
Once they spied and shelled a German submarine, but she escaped. This incident greatly enraged the crew of the gun that missed her. It was not the gun to the crew of which Whistler and Torry belonged. "Can't expect to get the Hun every time," was the soothing remark of one of the division captains. "Why not?" asked somebody else. "That's what we are here for, isn't it?
He peered through the glass in the door of the rear car. He came back shaking his head and looking puzzled. "He's there all right," he said to Whistler. "Bet he's going to Elmvale instead of to sea again. What do you make of it?" "Not a thing," grumbled Whistler. "I wish I knew what to do." "Let's have him pinched," suggested the eager Frenchy. "Not a chance! On what charge?" asked Torry.
All Torrence knows of the subsequent proceedings is what he got in official reports of Uncle Bash's death from the consul-general at Tokyo. He was buried over there and the life-insurance companies were rather fussy about the legal proof, Torry says. Whether the widow expects to come to America ultimately or will keep moving through the Orient marrying husbands and burying them is a dark mystery.
Are you saved? All are washed in the blood of the lamb. God wants blood victim. Birth, hymen, martyr, war, foundation of a building, sacrifice, kidney burntoffering, druids' altars. Elijah is coming. Dr John Alexander Dowie restorer of the church in Zion is coming. Is coming! Is coming!! Is coming!!! All heartily welcome. Paying game. Torry and Alexander last year. Polygamy.
The starboard gun was quickly charged. Whistler and Torry both worked on her. They stood back, the gunner standing with his finger on the button of the trigger. "That submarine's going down!" gasped one watcher. "We'll lose her." The next moment the executive officer's report for deflection and range came through the tube. Then: "Are you on?" "On, sir!" "Fire!"
"Now watch me play him." But the first few "nibbles" proved to be merely "hook-cleaners." The fish got the bait, and the boys had the exercise of swishing their lines in and out of the water. Channel bass run to large sizes. Torry told about seeing one hung up on the dock at Seacove weighing sixty-four and a quarter pounds.
"Hi, fellows!" called Torry, having stopped the car. "Going to stand there gassing all day?" The three figures in seaman's dress broke away from their admiring friends and approached the automobile. Frenchy Donahue was a little fellow with pink cheeks, bright eyes, and an Irish smile. Ikey Rosenmeyer was a shrewd looking lad who always had a fund of natural fun on tap.
"I believe the Kennebunk has got new orders," Whistler rejoined thoughtfully. "Whether or not they are for her to sail for the other side, I don't know. I heard a hint about it when we came aboard the cutter." "Crickey! Let 'em hit it up, then," urged Torry. "If this little old tub doesn't go fast enough I'll jump overboard and swim!" "Oi, oi! Not me!" objected Ikey Rosenmeyer.
When Philip Morgan announced his approach by an unusually cheerful strain, Al Torrance was already behind the steering wheel of his father's car, with the engine purring smoothly. "'Lo, Whistler," Al said. "Thought you had forgotten where we planned to go this morning. What made you so late?" "'Lo, Torry. Never hit the hay till after one. Just talking.
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