Government prize, isn't he? But tell me more about it. Bless my
scarf-pin, but I'm glad I met you! Going into town, I take it. Well, I
just came from there, but I'll walk back with you. Do you think--is
there any possibility--that I could go with you? Of course, I don't
want to crowd you, but--"
"Oh, there'll be plenty of room," replied the young inventor. "In fact,
more room than we had in the airship. We were talking only the other
day about the possibility of you going with us, but we didn't think
you'd risk it."
"Risk it? Bless my liver! Of course I'll risk it! It can't be as bad
as sailing in the air. You can't fall, that's certain."
"No; but maybe you can't rise," remarked Tom grimly.
"Oh, we won't think of that. Of course, I'd like to go. I fully
expected to be killed in the Red Cloud, but as I wasn't. I'm ready to
take a chance in the water. On the whole, I think I prefer to be buried
at sea, anyhow. Now, then, will you take me?"
"I think I can safely promise," answered Tom with a smile at his
friend's enthusiasm.
The two were approaching the city, having walked along as they talked.
There were still some sand dunes near the road, and they kept on the
side of these, nearest the beach, where they could watch the breakers.
"But you haven't told me where you are going," went on Mr. Damon, after
blessing a few dozen objects. "Where do the Government trials take
place?"
"Well," replied the lad, "to be frank with you, we have abandoned our
intention of trying for the Government prize."
"Not going to try for it? Bless my slippers! Why not? Isn't fifty
thousand dollars worth striving for? And, with the kind of a submarine
you say you have, you ought to be able to win."
"Yes, probably we could win," admitted the young inventor, "but we are
going to try for a better prize."
"A better one? I don't understand."
"Sunken treasure," explained Tom. "There's a ship sunk off the coast of
Uruguay, with three hundred thousand dollars in gold bullion aboard.
Dad and I are going to try to recover that in our submarine. We're
going to start day after to-morrow, and, if you like, you may go along."
"Go along! Of course I'll go along!" cried the eccentric man. "But I
never heard of such a thing. Sunken treasure! Three hundred thousand
dollars in gold! My, what a lot of money! And to go after it in a
submarine! It's as good as a story!"
"Yes, we hope to recover all the treasure," said the lad. "We ought to
be able to claim at least half of it."
"Bless my pocketbook!" cried Mr. Damon, but Tom did not hear him. At
that instant his attention was attracted by seeing two men emerge from
behind the sand dune near which he and Mr. Damon had halted
momentarily, when the youth explained about the treasure. The man
looked sharply at Tom. A moment later the first man was joined by
another, and at the sight of him our hero could not repress an
exclamation of alarm. For the second man was none other than Addison
Berg.
The latter glanced quickly at Tom, and then, with a hasty word to his
companion, the two swung around and made off in the opposite direction
to that in which they had been walking.
"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Damon, seeing the young inventor was
strangely affected.
"That--that man," stammered the lad.
"You don't mean to tell me that was one the Happy Harry gang, do you?"
"No. But one, or both of those men, may prove to be worse. That second
man was Addison Berg, and he's agent for a firm of submarine boat
builders who are rivals of dad's. Berg has been trying to find out why
we abandoned our intention of competing for the Government prize."
"I hope you didn't tell him."
"I didn't intend to," replied Tom, smiling grimly, "but I'm afraid I
have, however. He certainly overheard what I said. I spoke too loud.
Yes, he must have heard me. That's why he hurried off so."
"Possibly no harm is done. You didn't give the location of the sunken
ship."
"No; but I guess from what I said it will be easy enough to find. Well,
if we're going to have a fight for the possession of that sunken gold,
I'm ready for it. The Advance is well equipped for a battle. I must
tell dad of this. It's my fault."
"And partly mine, for asking you such leading questions in a public
place," declared Mr. Damon. "Bless my coat-tails, but I'm sorry! Maybe,
after all, those men were so interested in what they themselves were
saying that they didn't understand what you said."
But if there had been any doubts on this score they would have been
dissolved had Tom and his friend been able to see the actions of Mr.
Berg and his companion a little later. The plans of the
treasure-hunters had been revealed to their ears.
Chapter Eight
Another Treasure Expedition
While Tom and Mr. Damon continued on to Atlantis after the oil, the
young inventor lamenting from time to time that his remarks about the
real destination of the Advance had been overheard by Mr. Berg, the
latter and his companion were hastening back along the path that ran on
one side of the sand dunes.
"What's your hurry?" asked Mr. Maxwell, who was with the submarine
agent. "You turned around as if you were shot when you saw that man and
the lad. There didn't appear to be any cause for such a hurry. From
what I could hear they were talking about a submarine. You're in the
same business. You might be friends."
"Yes, we might," admitted Mr. Berg with a peculiar smile; "but, unless
I'm very much mistaken, we're going to be rivals."
"Rivals? What do you mean?"
"I can't tell you now. Perhaps I may later. But if you don't mind, walk
a little faster, please. I want to get to a long-distance telephone."
"What for?"
"I have just overheard something that I wish to communicate to my
employers, Bentley & Eagert."
"Overheard something? I don't see what it could be, unless that lad--"
"You'll learn in good time," went on the submarine agent. "But I must
telephone at once."
A little later the two men had reached a trolley line that ran into
Atlantis, and they arrived at the city before Mr. Damon and Tom got
there, as the latter had to go by a circuitous route. Mr. Berg lost no
time in calling up his firm by telephone.
"I have had another talk with Mr. Swift," he reported to Mr. Bentley,
who came to the instrument in Philadelphia.
"Well, what does he say?" was the impatient question. "I can't
understand his not wanting to try for the Government prize. It is
astonishing. You said you were going to discover the reason, Mr Berg,
but you haven't done so."
"I have."
"What is it?"
"Well, the reason Mr. Swift and his son don't care to try for the fifty
thousand dollar prize is that they are after one of three hundred
thousand dollars."
"Three hundred thousand dollars!" cried Mr. Bentley. "What government
is going to offer such a prize as that for submarines, when they are
getting almost as common as airships? We ought to have a try for that
ourselves. What government is it?"
"No government at all. But I think we ought to have a try for it, Mr.
Bentley."
"Explain."
"Well, I have just learned, most accidentally, that the Swifts are
going after sunken treasure--three hundred thousand dollars in gold
bullion."
"Sunken treasure? Where?
"I don't know exactly, but off the coast of Uruguay," and Mr. Berg
rapidly related what he had overheard Tom tell Mr. Damon. Mr. Bentley
was much excited and impatient for more details, but his agent could
not give them to him.
"Well," concluded the senior member of the firm of submarine boat
builders, "if the Swifts are going after treasure, so can we. Come to
Philadelphia at once, Mr. Berg, and we'll talk this matter over. There
is no time to lose. We can afford to forego the Government prize for
the chance of getting a much larger one. We have as much right to
search for the sunken gold as the Swifts have. Come here at once, and
we will make our plans."
"All right," agreed the agent with a smile as he hung up the receiver.
"I guess," he murmured to himself, "that you won't be so high and
mighty with me after this, Tom Swift. We'll see who has the best boat,
after all. We'll have a contest and a competition, but not for a
government prize. It will be for the sunken gold."
It was easy to see that Mr. Berg was much pleased with himself.
Meanwhile, Tom and Mr. Damon had reached Atlantis, and had purchased
the oil. They started back, but Tom took a street leading toward the
center of the place, instead of striking for the beach path, along
which they had come.
"Where are you going?" asked Mr. Damon.
"I want to see if that Andy Foger has come back here," replied the lad,
and he told of having been shut in the tank by the bully.
"I've never properly punished him for that trick," he went on, "though
we did manage to burst his auto tires. I'm curious to know how he knew
enough to turn that gear and shut the tank door. He must have been
loitering near the shop, seen me go in the submarine alone, watched his
chance and sneaked in after me. But I'd like to get a complete
explanation, and if I once got hold of Andy I could make him talk," and
Tom clenched his fist in a manner that augured no good for the
squint-eyed lad. "He was stopping at the same hotel with Mr. Berg, and
he hurried away after the trick he played on me. I next saw him in
Shopton, but I thought perhaps he might have come back here. I'm going
to inquire at the hotel," he added.
Andy's name was not on the register since his hasty flight, however,
and Tom, after inquiring from the clerk and learning that Mr. Berg was
still a guest at the hostelry, rejoined Mr. Damon.
"Bless my hat!" exclaimed that eccentric individual as they started
back to the lonely beach where the submarine was awaiting her advent
into the water. "The more I think of the trip I'm going to take, the
more I like it."
"I hope you will," remarked Tom. "It will be a new experience for all
of us. There's only one thing worrying me, and that is about Mr. Berg
having overheard what I said."
"Oh, don't worry about that. Can't we slip away and leave no trace in
the water?"
"I hope so, but I must tell dad and Mr. Sharp about what happened."
The aged inventor was not a little alarmed at what his son related, but
he agreed with Mr. Damon, whom he heartily welcomed, that little was to
be apprehended from Berg and his employers.
"They know we're after a sunken wreck, but that's all they do know,"
said Tom's father. "We are only waiting for the arrival of Captain
Alden Weston, and then we will go. Even if Bentley & Eagert make a try
for the treasure we'll have the start of them, and this will be a case
of first come, first served. Don't worry, Tom. I'm glad you're going,
Mr Damon. Come, I will show you our submarine."
As father and son, with their guest, were going to the machine shop,
Mr. Sharp met them. He had a letter in his hand.
"Good news!" the balloonist cried. "Captain Weston will be with us
to-morrow. He will arrive at the Beach Hotel in Atlantis, and wants one
of us to meet him there. He has considerable information about the
wreck."
"The Beach Hotel," murmured Tom. "That is where Mr. Berg is stopping. I
hope he doesn't worm any of our secret from Captain Weston," and it was
with a feeling of uneasiness that the young inventor continued after
his father and Mr. Damon to where the submarine was.
Chapter Nine
Captain Weston's Advent
"Bless my water ballast, but that certainly is a fine boat!" cried Mr.
Damon, when he had been shown over the new craft. "I think I shall
feel even safer in that than in the Red Cloud."
"Oh, don't go back on the airship!" exclaimed Mr Sharp. "I was counting
on taking you on another trip."
"Well, maybe after we get back from under the ocean," agreed Mr. Damon.
"I particularly like the cabin arrangements of the Advance. I think I
shall enjoy myself."
He would be hard to please who could not take pleasure from a trip in
the submarine. The cabin was particularly fine, and the sleeping
arrangements were good.
More supplies could be carried than was possible on the airship, and
there was more room in which to cook and serve food. Mr. Damon was fond
of good living, and the kitchen pleased him as much as anything else.
Early the next morning Tom set out for Atlantis, to meet Captain Weston
at the hotel. The young inventor inquired of the clerk whether the
seafaring man had arrived, and was told that he had come the previous
evening.
"Is he in his room?" asked Tom.
"No," answered the clerk with a peculiar grin. "He's an odd character.
Wouldn't go to bed last night until we had every window in his room
open, though it was blowing quite hard, and likely to storm. The
captain said he was used to plenty of fresh air. Well, I guess he got
it, all right."
"Where is he now?" asked the youth, wondering what sort of an
individual he was to meet.
"Oh, he was up before sunrise, so some of the scrubwomen told me. They
met him coming from his room, and he went right down to the beach with
a big telescope he always carries with him. He hasn't come back yet.
Probably he's down on the sand."
"Hasn't he had breakfast?"
"No. He left word he didn't want to eat until about four bells,
whatever time that is."
"It's ten o'clock," replied Tom, who had been studying up on sea terms
lately. "Eight bells is eight o'clock in the morning, or four in the
afternoon or eight at night, according to the time of day. Then there's
one bell for every half hour, so four bells this morning would be ten
o'clock in this watch, I suppose."
"Oh, that's the way it goes, eh?" asked the clerk. "I never could get
it through my head. What is twelve o'clock noon?"
"That's eight bells, too; so is twelve o'clock midnight. Eight bells
is as high as they go on a ship. But I guess I'll go down and see if I
can meet the captain. It will soon be ten o'clock, or four bells, and
he must be hungry for breakfast. By the way, is that Mr. Berg still
here?"
"No; he went away early this morning. He and Captain Weston seemed to
strike up quite an acquaintance, the night clerk told me. They sat and
smoked together until long after midnight, or eight bells," and the
clerk smiled as he glanced down at the big diamond ring on his little
finger.
"They did?" fairly exploded Tom, for he had visions of what the wily
Mr. Berg might worm out of the simple captain.
"Yes. Why, isn't the captain a proper man to make friends with?" and
the clerk looked at Tom curiously.
"Oh, yes, of course," was the hasty answer. "I guess I'll go and see if
I can find him--the captain, I mean."
Tom hardly knew what to think. He wished his father, or Mr. Sharp, had
thought to warn Captain Weston against talking of the wreck. It might
be too late now.
The young inventor hurried to the beach, which was not far from the
hotel. He saw a solitary figure pacing up and down, and from the fact
that the man stopped, every now and then, and gazed seaward through a
large telescope, the lad concluded it was the captain for whom he was
in search. He approached, his footsteps making no sound on the sand.
The man was still gazing through the glass.
"Captain Weston?" spoke Tom.
Without a show of haste, though the voice must have startled him, the
captain turned. Slowly he lowered the telescope, and then he replied
softly:
"That's my name. Who are you, if I may ask?"
Tom was struck, more than by anything else, by the gentle voice of the
seaman. He had prepared himself, from the description of Mr. Sharp, to
meet a gruff, bewhiskered individual, with a voice like a crosscut saw,
and a rolling gait. Instead he saw a man of medium size, with a smooth
face, merry blue eyes, and the softest voice and gentlest manner
imaginable. Tom was very much disappointed. He had looked for a regular
sea-dog, and he met a landsman, as he said afterward. But it was not
long before our hero changed his mind regarding Captain Weston.
"I'm Tom Swift," the owner of that name said, "and I have been sent to
show you the way to where our ship is ready to launch." The young
inventor refrained from mentioning submarine, as it was the wish of Mr
Sharp to disclose this feature of the voyage to the sailor himself.
"Ha, I thought as much," resumed the captain quietly. "It's a fine
day, if I may be permitted to say so," and he seemed to hesitate, as if
there was some doubt whether or not he might make that observation.
"It certainly is," agreed the lad. Then, with a smile he added: "It is
nearly four bells."
"Ha!" exclaimed the captain, also smiling, but even his manner of
saying "Ha!" was less demonstrative than that of most persons. "I
believe I am getting hungry, if I may be allowed the remark," and again
he seemed asking Tom's pardon for mentioning the fact.
"Perhaps you will come back to the cabin and have a little breakfast
with me," he went on. "I don't know what sort of a galley or cook they
have aboard the Beach Hotel, but it can't be much worse than some I've
tackled."
"No, thank you," answered the youth. "I've had my breakfast. But I'll
wait for you, and then I'd like to get back. Dad and Mr. Sharp are
anxious to meet you."
"And I am anxious to meet them, if you don't mind me mentioning it,"
was the reply, as the captain once more put the spyglass to his eye and
took an observation. "Not many sails in sight this morning," he added.
"But the weather is fine, and we ought to get off in good shape to hunt
for the treasure about which Mr. Sharp wrote me. I believe we are going
after treasure," he said; "that is, if you don't mind talking about it."
"Not in the least," replied Tom quickly, thinking this a good
opportunity for broaching a subject that was worrying him. "Did you
meet a Mr. Berg here last night, Captain Weston?" he went on.
"Yes. Mr. Berg and I had quite a talk. He is a well-informed man."
"Did he mention the sunken treasure?" asked the lad, eager to find out
if his suspicions were true.
"Yes, he did, if you'll excuse me putting it so plainly," answered the
seaman, as if Tom might be offended at so direct a reply. But the young
inventor was soon to learn that this was only an odd habit with the
seaman.
"Did he want to know where the wreck of the Boldero was located?"
continued the lad. "That is, did he try to discover if you knew
anything about it?"
"Yes," said Mr. Weston, "he did. He pumped me, if you are acquainted
with that term, and are not offended by it. You see, when I arrived
here I made inquiries as to where your father's place was located. Mr.
Berg overheard me, and introduced himself as agent for a shipbuilding
concern. He was very friendly, and when he said he knew you and your
parent, I thought he was all right."
Tom's heart sank. His worst fears were to be realized, he thought.
"Yes, he and I talked considerable, if I may be permitted to say so,"
went on the captain. "He seemed to know about the wreck of the Boldero,
and that she had three hundred thousand dollars in gold aboard. The
only thing he didn't know was where the wreck was located. He knew it
was off Uruguay somewhere, but just where he couldn't say. So he asked
me if I knew, since he must have concluded that I was going with you on
the gold-hunting expedition."
"And you do know, don't you?" asked Tom eagerly.
"Well, I have it pretty accurately charted out, if you will allow me
that expression," was the calm answer. "I took pains to look it up at
the request of Mr. Sharp."
"And he wanted to worm that information out of you?" inquired the youth
excitedly.
"Yes, I'm afraid he did."
"Did you give him the location?"
"Well," remarked the captain, as he took another observation before
closing up the telescope, "you see, while we were talking, I happened
to drop a copy of a map I'd made, showing the location of the wreck.
Mr. Berg picked it up to hand to me, and he looked at it."
"Oh!" cried Tom. "Then he knows just where the treasure is, and he may
get to it ahead of us. It's too bad."
"Yes," continued the seaman calmly, "Mr. Berg picked up that map, and
he looked very closely at the latitude and longitude I had marked as
the location of the wreck."
"Then he won't have any trouble finding it," murmured our hero.
"Eh? What's that?" asked the captain, "if I may be permitted to request
you to repeat what you said."
"I say he won't have any trouble locating the sunken Boldero," repeated
Tom.
"Oh, but I think he will, if he depends on that map," was the
unexpected reply. "You see," explained Mr. Weston, "I'm not so simple
as I look. I sensed what Mr. Berg was after, the minute he began to
talk to me. So I fixed up a little game on him. The map which I dropped
on purpose, not accidentally, where he would see it, did have the
location of the wreck marked. Only it didn't happen to be the right
location. It was about five hundred miles out of the way, and I rather
guess if Mr. Berg and his friends go there for treasure they'll find
considerable depth of water and quite a lonesome spot. Oh, no, I'm not
as easy as I look, if you don't mind me mentioning that fact; and when
a scoundrel sets out to get the best of me, I generally try to turn the
tables on him. I've seen such men as Mr. Berg before. I'm afraid, I'm
very much afraid, the sight he had of the fake map I made won't do him
much good. Well, I declare, it's past four bells. Let's go to
breakfast, if you don't mind me asking you," and with that the captain
started off up the beach, Tom following, his ideas all a whirl at the
unlooked-for outcome of the interview.
Chapter Ten
Trial of the Submarine
Tom felt such a relief at hearing of Captain Weston's ruse that his
appetite, sharpened by an early breakfast and the sea air, came to him
with a rush, and he had a second morning meal with the odd sea captain,
who chuckled heartily when he thought of how Mr Berg had been deceived.
"Yes," resumed Captain Weston, over his bacon and eggs, "I sized him up
for a slick article as soon as I laid eyes on him. But he evidently
misjudged me, if I may be permitted that term. Oh, well, we may meet
again, after we secure the treasure, and then I can show him the real
map of the location of the wreck."
"Then you have it?" inquired the lad eagerly.
Captain Weston nodded, before hiding his face behind a large cup of
coffee; his third, by the way.
"Let me see it?" asked Tom quickly. The captain set down his cup. He
looked carefully about the hotel dining-room. There were several
guests, who, like himself, were having a late breakfast.
"It's a good plan," the sailor said slowly, "when you're going into
unknown waters, and don't want to leave a wake for the other fellow to
follow, to keep your charts locked up. If it's all the same to you," he
added diffidently, "I'd rather wait until we get to where your father
and Mr. Sharp are before displaying the real map. I've no objection to
showing you the one Mr. Berg saw," and again he chuckled.
The young inventor blushed at his indiscretion. He felt that the news
of the search for the treasure had leaked out through him, though he
was the one to get on the trail of it by seeing the article in the
paper. Now he had nearly been guilty of another break. He realized that
he must be more cautious. The captain saw his confusion, and said:
"I know how it is. You're eager to get under way. I don't blame you. I
was the same myself when I was your age. But we'll soon be at your
place, and then I'll tell you all I know. Sufficient now, to say that I
believe I have located the wreck within a few miles. I got on the track
of a sailor who had met one of the shipwrecked crew of the Boldero, and
he gave me valuable information. Now tell me about the craft we are
going in. A good deal depends on that."
Tom hardly knew what to answer. He recalled what Mr. Sharp had said
about not wanting to tell Captain Weston, until the last moment, that
they were going in a submarine, for fear the old seaman (for he was old
in point of service though not in years) might not care to risk an
under-water trip. Therefore Tom hesitated. Seeing it, Captain Weston
remarked quietly:
"I mean, what type is your submarine? Does it go by compressed air, or
water power?"
"How do you know it's a submarine?" asked the young inventor quickly,
and in some confusion.
"Easy enough. When Mr. Berg thought he was pumping me, I was getting a
lot of information from him. He told me about the submarine his firm
was building, and, naturally, he mentioned yours. One thing led to
another until I got a pretty good idea of your craft. What do you call
it?"
"The Advance."
"Good name. I like it, if you don't mind speaking of it."
"We were afraid you wouldn't like it," commented Tom.
"What, the name?"
"No, the idea of going in a submarine."