The Seward gateway and the Alaska evening post., 1917-03-26

not. In the afternoon, during short chat with Captain W. R. D. Irvine, the ships commander, had mentioned ] would like to see chart and note our position on the ocean. He replied "Oh, would you?" with a smiling, rising infection that meant, "It is jolly well none of your business"
 Prior to this, my cheery, early morn steward had told us that we would make Liverpool by Monday night, and I used this information in another question to the captain.
 "When do we land?" I asked.
 "I don't know" replied Captain Irvine, but my steward told me later it would be Tuesday after dinner.
 The frst-cabin passengers were gathered in the lounge Sunday even- ing, with the exception of the bridge fiends in the smokeroom.
 "Poor Butterfly" was dying wearily on the talking machine and several couples were dancing.
 About the tables in the smokeroom the conversation was limited to the announcement of bids and orders to the stewards. Before the fireplace was little gathering, which had been dubbed as the Hyde Park corner-an allusion I don't quite fully under stand. This group had about exhaust ed available discussion, when l pro- jected new bone of contention.
 What do you say are our chances of being torpedoed?" asked.
 "Well," drawled the deliberative MT. Henry Chatham, a London solici- tor, T should say four thousand to one"
 Lucien J. Jerome of the British dip lomatic service, returning with an Ecuadorean valet from South America, interjected: Considering the zone and the class of this ship, should put it down at two hundred and fifty to one that we don't meet a submarine.
 At this moment the ship gave a sudden lurch sideways and forward. There was a untitled noise like the Slamming of some large door at a good distance away. The slightness of the shock and the meekness of the report compared with my imagination was disappointing. Every man in the stateroom was on his feet in an in- stant.
 We're hit" shouted Mir. Chatham.
 That's what wer're waiting for" said Mir. Jerome.
 What a lousy torpedo" said MT. Kirby in typical New Yorkese. "It must have been a fizzer."
 looked at my watch. It was 1O:3O o'clock.
 Then came the five blasts on the whistle. We rushed down the corri- dor leading from the smOking-room at the stern to the lounge, which was amidship. We were running, but there was no panic. The occupants of the lounge were just leaving by the forward doors as we entered.
 1t was dark on the landing leading down to the promenade deck, where the frst-class staterooms were To- cated. My pocket flashlight, built like fountain pen, came in handy on the landing.
 We reached the lower deck. l rush ed into my stateroom, B-19, grabbed life preservers and overcoat, and made my way to the uper deck on that same dark landing. saw the chief steward opening an electric switchbox in the wall and turning on the switch. Instantly the boat decks were illuminated. That | illumination saved our lives.
 The torpedo had hit us we'll astern on the starboard side and had missed the engines and the dynamos. l had not noticed the deck lights before. Throughout the voyage our decks had remained dark at night, and all cabin ....,-tL oIo. ,,,aro cIop,nad doyUn and all