DOWN TO THE DEPTHS.
It was the following morning, a bright, clear day, with a clean swept
sky overhead, and seaward, the waves whipping up into smart little
whitecaps under a brisk breeze. Breakfast was over, the Boy Scouts'
bugle had sounded an assembly call, and now all were eagerly mustered
about the submarine shed awaiting Mr. Barr's arrival and permission to
go on board the _Peacemaker_.
True to his promise, the inventor had decided to make the boys
participants in the trial trip of the slate-colored diving boat.
Presently he appeared, accompanied by Ensign Hargreaves. Ten minutes
later the chatting, laughing party was on board the _Peacemaker_, and
half an hour after that she was pronounced ready for the start. Mr. Barr
took his place in the conning tower with Ensign Hargreaves beside him.
Barton was in the engine room, sullen and uncommunicative as usual. Rob
and Merritt were on deck with one of the sailors, delegated to the duty
of casting off the diving boat's lines.
At last came the word from the conning tower:
"Cast off."
Rob seized a rope and cast off from the stern bitts, while the sailor
performed the same operation at the bow.
"Must we come inside now?" inquired Rob, through the open hatch of the
conning tower.
"Not yet; unless you wish to. I will notify you before we dive," was Mr.
Barr's reply.
"Goodness, I hope he doesn't forget," said Rob laughingly, as the
inventor turned on a switch and started the engines. The cigar-shaped
form of the craft trembled as the powerful twin propellers beat the
water. Then, handling as perfectly as a catboat, she backed slowly out
of the shed and on to the open sea.
Once outside the shed, her helmsman headed the craft about and made
directly east. To Rob and Merritt, standing on the deck, the sensation
was a thrilling one. Faster and faster the craft was driven till great
clouds of spray compelled the two lads to seek refuge in the conning
tower.
Inside the boat the hum of machinery and the vibration of the powerful
engines could be plainly distinguished. Rob glanced at the speed
indicator on the steel wall of the "pilot house."
"Twenty-five knots! Phew! that's going some," he gasped.
"She can make thirty-two on the surface and twenty-one under water,"
said the inventor calmly.
As he spoke, he drew a lever toward him and the _Peacemaker_ appeared to
leap forward like a horse under the lash.
Rob watched the handle of the indicator as it sped slowly around the
dial. Up and up it crept till it stopped at thirty-two knots and a half.
"Jove! Barr," exclaimed the ensign, "this is the wonder craft of the
century."
"I think I could get even more speed out of her, but I don't wish to
strain the engines," was the confident reply.
"This is fast enough for me, thank you," said Rob to Merritt in an
undertone.
From the conning tower lens the _Peacemaker_ appeared to be rushing
between two solid walls of water, so great was the quantity of spray she
threw as she was remorselessly driven through the choppy sea. Yet the
vibration was not nearly as bad as might have been expected.
"Let's go below and take a look at the engine room," said Merritt.
"All right; but I'll ask Mr. Barr's permission first," was Rob's
rejoinder.
This was readily obtained, and the two boys went below. They found
their comrades gathered in the large central cabin, excitedly discussing
the novelty of their voyage. Passing them, the young leader and his
lieutenant made their way back into the machinery department. Barton
glowered at them as they entered.
"Well, what d'ye want?" he asked gruffly.
"Merely to have a look at the engines," said Rob.
"Aw, what do you know about engines?" growled the man. "You ain't got no
business in here."
"We have Mr. Barr's permission," rejoined Rob in a calm, even tone,
determined not to let the fellow make him angry.
"Well, take a look around and get out quick," was the ungracious reply
of the surly fellow.
Rob thought it best not to answer him, and arm in arm he and Merritt
wandered among the flashing, smoothly working machinery, which, despite
its size and power, was almost noiseless. Whatever his failings might be
in the way of politeness, Barton must have been a good engineer, the
boys decided, for every bit of metal and paintwork about the engines was
polished to a brilliant finish, and the engine room was as neat as a new
pin.
Rob was examining the powerful pumps when his eye suddenly fell on a bit
of paper lying on the floor. He picked it up, prompted by he knew not
what instinct, and found that it was covered with minute sketches,
apparently of machinery. The sketches were numbered and lettered, as if
they had been "keyed" for the purpose of making the diagram clearer.
He was still examining the sketches when there was a swift step behind
him and a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Rob, facing about, looked
into Barton's face. The engineer's countenance was livid, his eyes
fairly blazed.
"Give me that paper, you young jackanapes!" he exclaimed, "and then get
out of here--quick!"
"As to giving you the paper, here you are," said Rob, quietly handing
the engineer the mechanical sketches. "If I'd known they were yours, I'd
have returned them to you at once. I must ask you, however, to be a
little less rough in your manners. I don't know what harm we've ever
done you, that you should show such a dislike for us."
"Bah!" growled Barton as he turned away, thrusting the paper into a
pocket of his jumper.
After this incident neither of the boys cared to remain in the engine
room, and soon joined their companions in the main cabin.
They found them chatting and laughing over different boyish topics, and
Merritt joined in the fun.
But Rob, usually talkative and bright, was strangely silent. He found
himself musing over the incident of the scrap of paper covered with
mechanical sketches. Why had Barton become so agitated when the boy
picked it up? What was there about the affair to excite the man so
strangely?
Suddenly into the boy's mind there flashed a startling suspicion. But so
grave was the idea that he dismissed it, or rather tried to; but with
all his efforts the idea kept recurring like a dominant note in a piece
of music. Rob decided to be on the watch and try to verify or disprove
his suspicion, which was nothing more nor less than an idea that Barton
was a traitor to his employer, and was also in the service of some
powerful interests striving to get a grip on the secrets of the
_Peacemaker_.
"That man will bear watching," decided Rob.
Scarcely had he come to this conclusion when Mr. Barr shouted down from
the conning tower:
"I'm going to dive!"
The hearts of all the lads beat perceptibly quicker at the words.
They were about to descend into the unknown regions beneath the surface
of the ocean, down into the dark waters where men's souls are put to a
supreme test.