"A
first-class torpedo boat sits lower in the water than a destroyer. Hence
we artificially raise our sides with a black canvas wash-streak to
represent extra freeboard; _at_ the same time paddin' out the cover of the
forward three-pounder like as if it was a twelve-pounder, an' variously
fakin' up the bows of 'er. As you might say, we've took thought an' added
a cubic to our stature. It's our len'th that sugars us. A 'undred an'
forty feet, which is our len'th into two 'undred and ten, which is about
the _Gnome's,_ leaves seventy feet over, which we haven't got."
"Is this all your own notion, Mr. Pyecroft?" I asked.
"In spots, you might say--yes; though we all contributed to make up
deficiencies. But Mr. Moorshed, not much carin' for further Navy after
what Frankie said, certainly threw himself into the part with avidity."
"What the dickens are we going to do?"
"Speaking as a seaman gunner, I should say we'd wait till the sights came
on, an' then fire. Speakin' as a torpedo-coxswain, L.T.O., T.I., M.D.,
etc., I presume we fall in--Number One in rear of the tube, etc., secure
tube to ball or diaphragm, clear away securin'-bar, release safety-pin
from lockin-levers, an' pray Heaven to look down on us. As second in
command o' 267, I say wait an' see!"
"What's happened? We're off," I said. The timber ship had slid away from
us.
"We are. Stern first, an' broadside on! If we don't hit anything too hard,
we'll do.
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