Texas. She, too, was flying the signal, "The enemy is escaping," in red and white and blue flags. Beyond the Iowa, still further eastward, lay the pride of the western coast, the mighty Oregon, and it was this ship that first started up her engines in pursuit, having, by chance, a good head of steam up. And as the Oregon turned in one direction, the little Resolute turned in the other, to carry the news to the absent rear-admiral.
Three minutes had not yet passed, yet a complete transformation had occurred on the Brooklyn. Five hundred men had scuttled to as many different directions, battle hatches had been lowered, water-tight compartments closed, hose attached and decks wet down, fire tubs filled, magazines opened, hoists put into operation, and ammunition delivered to turret, decks, and to the fighting-tops. Down below, fire had been started under four fresh boilers, and a dozen different connections between engines made.
Nor was this all. Splinter nets had been spread as before, all useless woodwork thrown overboard, and the surgeons operating tables made ready. The warning gun from the Iowa was followed by a gun from the Texas, and then the Brooklyn
