cables will hold?"
"What about the submarine?" asked Mr. Swift anxiously.
"I haven't much fear for her. She lies so low in the water that the
wind can't get much hold on her. I don't believe she'll drag her
anchor."
Once more came a fierce burst of wind, and a dash of rain, and then,
suddenly above the outburst of the elements, there sounded a crash on
deck. It was followed by excited cries.
"Something's happened!" yelled Tom. The prisoners gathered in a
frightened group in the middle of the cabin. The cries were repeated,
and then came a rush of feet just outside the cabin door.
"Our guards! They're leaving!" shouted Tom.
"Right!" exclaimed Captain Weston. "Now's our chance! Come on! If we're
going to escape we must do it while the storm is at its height, and all
is in confusion. Come on!"
Tom tried the door. It was locked.
"One side!" shouted the captain, and this time he did not pause to say
"by your leave." He came at the portal on the run, and his shoulder
struck it squarely. There was a splintering and crashing of wood, and
the door was burst open.
"Follow me!" cried the valiant sailor, and Tom and the others rushed
after him. They could hear the wind howling more loudly than ever, and
as they reached the deck the rain dashed into their faces with such
violence that they could hardly see. But they were aware that something
had occurred. By the light of several lanterns swaying in the terrific
blast they saw that one of the auxiliary masts had broken off near the
deck.
It had fallen against the chart house, smashing it, and a number of
sailors were laboring to clear away the wreckage.
"Fortune favors us!" cried Captain Weston. "Come on! Make for the small
boat. It's near the side ladder. We'll lower the boat and pull to the
submarine."
There came a flash of lightning, and in its glare Tom saw something
that caused him to cry out.
"Look!" he shouted. "The submarine. She's dragged her anchors!"
The Advance was much closer to the warship than she had been that
afternoon. Captain Weston looked over the side.
"It's the San Paulo that's dragging her anchors, not the submarine!" he
shouted. "We're bearing down on her! We must act quickly. Come on,
we'll lower the boat!"
In the rush of wind and the dash of rain the prisoners crowded to the
accommodation companion ladder, which was still over the side of the
big ship. No one seemed to be noticing them, for Admiral Fanchetti was
on the bridge, yelling orders for the clearing away of the wreckage.
But Lieutenant Drascalo, coming up from below at that moment, caught
sight of the fleeing ones. Drawing his sword, he rushed at them,
shouting:
"The prisoners! The prisoners! They are escaping!"
Captain Weston leaped toward the lieutenant.
"Look out for his sword!" cried Tom. But the doughty sailor did not
fear the weapon. Catching up a coil of rope, he cast it at the
lieutenant. It struck him in the chest, and he staggered back, lowering
his sword.
Captain Weston leaped forward, and with a terrific blow sent Lieutenant
Drascalo to the deck.
"There!" cried the sailor. "I guess you won't yell 'Silenceo!' for a
while now."
There was a rush of Brazilians toward the group of prisoners. Tom
caught one with a blow on the chin, and felled him, while Captain
Weston disposed of two more, and Mr. Sharp and Mr. Damon one each. The
savage fighting of the Americans was too much for the foreigners, and
they drew back.
"Come on!" cried Captain Weston again. "The storm is getting worse. The
warship will crash into the submarine in a few minutes. Her anchors
aren't holding. I didn't think they would."
He made a dash for the ladder, and a glance showed him that the small
boat was in the water at the foot of it. The craft had not been hoisted
on the davits.
"Luck's with us at last!" cried Tom, seeing it also. "Shall I help
you, dad?"
"No; I think I'm all right. Go ahead."
There came such a gust of wind that the San Paulo was heeled over, and
the wreck of the mast, rolling about, crashed into the side of a deck
house, splintering it. A crowd of sailors, led by Admiral Fanchetti,
who were again rushing on the escaping prisoners, had to leap back out
of the way of the rolling mast.
"Catch them! Don't let them get away!" begged the commander, but the
sailors evidently had no desire to close in with the Americans.
Through the rush of wind and rain Tom and his friends staggered down
the ladder. It was hard work to maintain one's footing, but they
managed it. On account of the high side of the ship the water was
comparatively calm under her lee, and, though the small boat was
bobbing about, they got aboard. The oars were in place, and in another
moment they had shoved off from the landing stage which formed the foot
of the accommodation ladder.
"Now for the Advance!" murmured Captain Weston.
"Come back! Come back, dogs of Americans!" cried a voice at the rail
over their heads, and looking up, Tom saw Lieutenant Drascalo. He had
snatched a carbine from a marine, and was pointing it at the recent
prisoners. He fired, the flash of the gun and a dazzling chain of
lightning coming together. The thunder swallowed up the report of the
carbine, but the bullet whistled uncomfortable close to Tom's head. The
blackness that followed the lightning shut out the view of everything
for a few seconds, and when the next flash came the adventurers saw
that they were close to their submarine.
A fusillade of shots sounded from the deck of the warship, but as the
marines were poor marksmen at best, and as the swaying of the ship
disconcerted them, our friends were in little danger.
There was quite a sea once they were beyond the protection of the side
of the warship, but Captain Weston, who was rowing, knew how to manage
a boat skillfully, and he soon had the craft alongside the bobbing
submarine.
"Get aboard, now, quick!" he cried.
They leaped to the small deck, casting the rowboat adrift. It was the
work of but a moment to open the conning tower. As they started to
descend they were met by several Brazilians coming up.
"Overboard with 'em!" yelled the captain. "Let them swim ashore or to
their ship!"
With almost superhuman strength he tossed one big sailor from the small
deck. Another showed fight, but he went to join his companion in the
swirling water. A man rushed at Tom, seeking the while to draw his
sword, but the young inventor, with a neat left-hander, sent him to
join the other two, and the remainder did not wait to try conclusions.
They leaped for their lives, and soon all could be seen, in the
frequent lightning flashes, swimming toward the warship which was now
closer than ever to the submarine.
"Get inside and we'll sink below the surface!" called Tom. "Then we
don't care what happens."
They closed the steel door of the conning tower. As they did so they
heard the patter of bullets from carbines fired from the San Paulo.
Then came a violent tossing of the Advance; the waves were becoming
higher as they caught the full force of the hurricane. It took but an
instant to sever, from within, the cable attached to the anchor, which
was one belonging to the warship. The Advance began drifting.
"Open the tanks, Mr. Sharp!" cried Tom. "Captain Weston and I will
steer. Once below we'll start the engines."
Amid a crash of thunder and dazzling flashes of lightning, the
submarine began to sink. Tom, in the conning tower had a sight of the
San Paulo as it drifted nearer and nearer under the influence of the
mighty wind. As one bright flash came he saw Admiral Fanchetti and
Lieutenant Drascalo leaning over the rail and gazing at the Advance.
A moment later the view faded from sight as the submarine sank below
the surface of the troubled sea. She was tossed about for some time
until deep enough to escape the surface motion. Waiting until she was
far enough down so that her lights would not offer a mark for the guns
of the warship, the electrics were switched on.
"We're safe now!" cried Tom, helping his father to his cabin. "They've
got too much to attend to themselves to follow us now, even if they
could. Shall we go ahead, Captain Weston?"
"I think so, yes, if I may be allowed to express my opinion," was the
mild reply, in strange contrast to the strenuous work in which the
captain had just been engaged.
Tom signaled to Mr. Sharp in the engine-room, and in a few seconds the
Advance was speeding away from the island and the hostile vessel. Nor,
deep as she was now, was there any sign of the hurricane. In the
peaceful depths she was once more speeding toward the sunken treasure.
Chapter Twenty-Two
At the Wreck
"Well," remarked Mr. Damon, as the submarine hurled herself forward
through the ocean, "I guess that firing party will have something else
to do to-morrow morning besides aiming those rifles at us."
"Yes, indeed," agreed Tom. "They'll be lucky if they save their ship.
My, how that wind did blow!"
"You're right," put in Captain Weston. "When they get a hurricane down
in this region it's no cat's paw. But they were a mighty careless lot
of sailors. The idea of leaving the ladder over the side, and the boat
in the water."
"It was a good thing for us, though," was Tom's opinion.
"Indeed it was," came from the captain. "But as long as we are safe now
I think we'd better take a look about the craft to see if those chaps
did any damage. They can't have done much, though, or she wouldn't be
running so smoothly. Suppose you go take a look, Tom, and ask your
father and Mr. Sharp what they think. I'll steer for a while, until we
get well away from the island."
The young inventor found his father and the balloonist busy in the
engine-room. Mr. Swift had already begun an inspection of the
machinery, and so far found that it had not been injured. A further
inspection showed that no damage had been done by the foreign guard
that had been in temporary possession of the Advance, though the
sailors had made free in the cabins, and had broken into the food
lockers, helping themselves plentifully. But there was still enough for
the gold-seekers.
"You'd never know there was a storm raging up above," observed Tom as
he rejoined Captain Weston in the lower pilot house, where he was
managing the craft. "It's as still and peaceful here as one could wish."
"Yes, the extreme depths are seldom disturbed by a surface storm. But
we are over a mile deep now. I sent her down a little while you were
gone, as I think she rides a little more steadily."
All that night they speeded forward, and the next day, rising to the
surface to take an observation, they found no traces of the storm,
which had blown itself out. They were several hundred miles away from
the hostile warship, and there was not a vessel in sight on the broad
expanse of blue ocean.
The air tanks were refilled, and after sailing along on the surface for
an hour or two, the submarine was again sent below, as Captain Weston
sighted through his telescope the smoke of a distant steamer.
"As long as it isn't the Wonder, we're all right," said Tom. "Still, we
don't want to answer a lot of questions about ourselves and our object."
"No. I fancy the Wonder will give up the search," remarked the captain,
as the Advance was sinking to the depths.
"We must be getting pretty near to the end of our search ourselves,"
ventured the young inventor.
"We are within five hundred miles of the intersection of the
forty-fifth parallel and the twenty-seventh meridian, east from
Washington," said the captain. "That's as near as I could locate the
wreck. Once we reach that point we will have to search about under
water, for I don't fancy the other divers left any buoys to mark the
spot."
It was two days later, after uneventful sailing, partly on the surface,
and partly submerged, that Captain Weston, taking a noon observation,
announced:
"Well, we're here!"
"Do you mean at the wreck?" asked Mr. Swift eagerly.
"We're at the place where she is supposed to lie, in about two miles of
water," replied the captain. "We are quite a distance off the coast of
Uruguay, about opposite the harbor of Rio de La Plata. From now on we
shall have to nose about under water, and trust to luck."
With her air tanks filled to their capacity, and Tom having seen that
the oxygen machine and other apparatus was in perfect working order,
the submarine was sent below on her search. Though they were in the
neighborhood of the wreck, the adventurers might still have to do
considerable searching before locating it. Lower and lower they sank
into the depths of the sea, down and down, until they were deeper than
they had ever gone before. The pressure was tremendous, but the steel
sides of the Advance withstood it.
Then began a search that lasted nearly a week. Back and forth they
cruised, around in great circles, with the powerful searchlight focused
to disclose the sunken treasure ship. Once Tom, who was observing the
path of light in the depths from the conning tower, thought he had seen
the remains of the Boldero, for a misty shape loomed up in front of the
submarine, and he signaled for a quick stop. It was a wreck, but it had
been on the ocean bed for a score of years, and only a few timbers
remained of what had been a great ship. Much disappointed, Tom rang for
full speed ahead again, and the current was sent into the great
electric plates that pulled and pushed the submarine forward.
For two days more nothing happened. They searched around under the
green waters, on the alert for the first sign, but they saw nothing.
Great fish swam about them, sometimes racing with the Advance. The
adventurers beheld great ocean caverns, and skirted immense rocks,
where dwelt monsters of the deep. Once a great octopus tried to do
battle with the submarine and crush it in its snaky arms, but Tom saw
the great white body, with saucer-shaped eyes, in the path of light and
rammed him with the steel point. The creature died after a struggle.
They were beginning to despair when a full week had passed and they
were seemingly as far from the wreck as ever. They went to the surface
to enable Captain Weston to take another observation. It only confirmed
the other, and showed that they were in the right vicinity. But it was
like looking for a needle in a haystack, almost, to find the sunken ship
in that depth of water.
"Well, we'll try again," said Mr. Swift, as they sank once more beneath
the surface.
It was toward evening, on the second day after this, that Tom, who was
on duty in the conning tower, saw a black shape looming up in front of
the submarine, the searchlight revealing it to him far enough away so
that he could steer to avoid it. He thought at first that it was a
great rock, for they were moving along near the bottom, but the
peculiar shape of it soon convinced him that this could not be. It came
more plainly into view as the submarine approached it more slowly, then
suddenly, out of the depths in the illumination from the searchlight,
the young inventor saw the steel sides of a steamer. His heart gave a
great thump, but he would not call out yet, fearing that it might be
some other vessel than the one containing the treasure.
He steered the Advance so as to circle it. As he swept past the bows he
saw in big letters near the sharp prow the word, Boldero.
"The wreck! The wreck!" he cried, his voice ringing through the craft
from end to end. "We've found the wreck at last!"
"Are you sure?" cried his father, hurrying to his son, Captain Weston
following.
"Positive," answered the lad. The submarine was slowing up now, and Tom
sent her around on the other side. They had a good view of the sunken
ship. It seemed to be intact, no gaping holes in her sides, for only
her plates had started, allowing her to sink gradually.
"At last," murmured Mr. Swift. "Can it be possible we are about to get
the treasure?"
"That's the Boldero, all right," affirmed Captain Weston. "I recognize
her, even if the name wasn't on her bow. Go right down on the bottom,
Tom, and we'll get out the diving suits and make an examination."
The submarine settled to the ocean bed. Tom glanced at the depth gage.
It showed over two miles and a half. Would they be able to venture out
into water of such enormous pressure in the comparatively frail diving
suits, and wrest the gold from the wreck? It was a serious question.
The Advance came to a stop. In front of her loomed the great bulk of
the Boldero, vague and shadowy in the flickering gleam of the
searchlight. As the gold-seekers looked at her through the bull's-eyes
of the conning tower, several great forms emerged from beneath the
wreck's bows.
"Deep-water sharks!" exclaimed Captain Weston, "and monsters, too. But
they can't bother us. Now to get out the gold!"
Chapter Twenty-Three
Attacked by Sharks
For a few minutes after reaching the wreck, which had so occupied their
thoughts for the past weeks, the adventurers did nothing but gaze at it
from the ports of the submarine. The appearance of the deep-water
sharks gave them no concern, for they did not imagine the ugly
creatures would attack them. The treasure-seekers were more engrossed
with the problem of getting out the gold.
"How are we going to get at it?" asked Tom, as he looked at the high
sides of the sunken ship, which towered well above the comparatively
small Advance.
"Why, just go in and get it," suggested Mr. Damon. "Where is gold in a
cargo usually kept, Captain Weston? You ought to know, I should think.
Bless my pocketbook!"
"Well, I should say that in this case the bullion would be kept in a
safe in the captain's cabin," replied the sailor. "Or, if not there,
in some after part of the vessel, away from where the crew is
quartered. But it is going to be quite a problem to get at it. We can't
climb the sides of the wreck, and it will be impossible to lower her
ladder over the side. However, I think we had better get into the
diving suits and take a closer look. We can walk around her."
"That's my idea," put in Mr. Sharp. "But who will go, and who will stay
with the ship?"
"I think Tom and Captain Weston had better go," suggested Mr. Swift.
"Then, in case anything happens, Mr. Sharp, you and I will be on board
to manage matters."
"You don't think anything will happen, do you, dad?" asked his son with
a laugh, but it was not an easy one, for the lad was thinking of the
shadowy forms of the ugly sharks.
"Oh, no, but it's best to be prepared," answered his father.
The captain and the young inventor lost no time in donning the diving
suits. They each took a heavy metal bar, pointed at one end, to use in
assisting them to walk on the bed of the ocean, and as a protection in
case the sharks might attack them. Entering the diving chamber, they
were shut in, and then water was admitted until the pressure was seen,
by gauges, to be the same as that outside the submarine. Then the
sliding steel door was opened. At first Tom and the captain could
barely move, so great was the pressure of water on their bodies. They
would have been crushed but for the protection afforded by the strong
diving suits.
In a few minutes they became used to it, and stepped out on the floor
of the ocean. They could not, of course, speak to each other, but Tom
looked through the glass eyes of his helmet at the captain, and the
latter motioned for the lad to follow. The two divers could breathe
perfectly, and by means of small, but powerful lights on the helmets,
the way was lighted for them as they advanced.
Slowly they approached the wreck, and began a circuit of her. They
could see several places where the pressure of the water, and the
strain of the storm in which she had foundered, had opened the plates
of the ship, but in no case were the openings large enough to admit a
person. Captain Weston put his steel bar in one crack, and tried to
pry it farther open, but his strength was not equal to the task. He
made some peculiar motions, but Tom could not understand them.
They looked for some means by which they could mount to the decks of
the Boldero, but none was visible. It was like trying to scale a
fifty-foot smooth steel wall. There was no place for a foothold. Again
the sailor made some peculiar motions, and the lad puzzled over them.
They had gone nearly around the wreck now, and as yet had seen no way
in which to get at the gold. As they passed around the bow, which was
in a deep shadow from a great rock, they caught sight of the submarine
lying a short distance away. Light streamed from many bull's-eyes, and
Tom felt a sense of security as he looked at her, for it was lonesome
enough in that great depth of water, unable to speak to his companion,
who was a few feet in advance.
Suddenly there was a swirling of the water, and Tom was nearly thrown
off his feet by the rush of some great body. A long, black shadow
passed over his head, and an instant later he saw the form of a great
shark launched at Captain Weston. The lad involuntarily cried in alarm,
but the result was surprising. He was nearly deafened by his own voice,
confined as the sound was in the helmet he wore. But the sailor, too,
had felt the movement of the water, and turned just in time. He thrust
upward with his pointed bar. But he missed the stroke, and Tom, a
moment later, saw the great fish turn over so that its mouth, which is
far underneath its snout, could take in the queer shape which the shark
evidently thought was a choice morsel. The big fish did actually get
the helmet of Captain Weston inside its jaws, but probably it would
have found it impossible to crush the strong steel. Still it might have
sprung the joints, and water would have entered, which would have been
as fatal as though the sailor had been swallowed by the shark. Tom
realized this and, moving as fast as he could through the water, he
came up behind the monster and drove his steel bar deep into it.
The sea was crimsoned with blood, and the savage creature, opening its
mouth, let go of the captain. It turned on Tom, who again harpooned it.
Then the fish darted off and began a wild flurry, for it was dying. The
rush of water nearly threw Tom off his feet, but he managed to make his
way over to his friend, and assist him to rise. A confident look from
the sailor showed the lad that Captain Weston was uninjured, though he
must have been frightened. As the two turned to make their way back to
the submarine, the waters about them seemed alive with the horrible
monsters.
It needed but a glance to show what they were, Sharks! Scores of them,
long, black ones, with their ugly, undershot mouths. They had been
attracted by the blood of the one Tom had killed, but there was not a
meal for all of them off the dying creature, and the great fish might
turn on the young inventor and his companion.
The two shrank closer toward the wreck. They might get under the prow
of that and be safe. But even as they started to move, several of the
sea wolves darted quickly at them. Tom glanced at the captain. What
could they do? Strong as were the diving suits, a combined attack by
the sharks, with their powerful jaws, would do untold damage.
At that moment there seemed some movement on board the submarine. Tom
could see his father looking from the conning tower, and the aged
inventor seemed to be making some motions. Then Tom understood. Mr.
Swift was directing his son and Captain Weston to crouch down. The lad
did so, pulling the sailor after him. Then Tom saw the bow electric gun
run out, and aimed at the mass of sharks, most of whom were congregated
about the dead one. Into the midst of the monsters was fired a number
of small projectiles, which could be used in the electric cannon in
place of the solid shot. Once more the waters were red with blood, and
those sharks which were not killed swirled off. Tom and Captain Weston
were saved. They were soon inside the submarine again, telling their
thrilling story.
"It's lucky you saw us, dad," remarked the lad, blushing at the praise
Mr. Damon bestowed on him for killing the monster which had attacked
the captain.
"Oh, I was on the lookout," said the inventor. "But what about getting
into the wreck?"
"I think the only way we can do it will be to ram a hole in her side,"
said Captain Weston. "That was what I tried to tell Tom by motions, but
he didn't seem to understand me."
"No," replied the lad, who was still a little nervous from his recent
experience. "I thought you meant for us to turn it over, bottom side
up," and he laughed.
"Bless my gizzard! Just like a shark," commented Mr. Damon.