A BIT OF MADCAP DARING.
"You mean that there is a way of escaping from this craft?" demanded
old Sam incredulously. "Well, lad, I know the _Huron_ pretty well,
from her keel plates up, but I can't figure one."
"How about the torpedo tube?" inquired Tom calmly.
"Wow!" cried the old man. "I begin to get your meaning, now. But
could it be done?"
"It can be tried," said Tom. "As I understand it, when the _Huron_
is floating on the surface her torpedo tube is submerged to a depth
of about four feet."
"Ker-rect," declared old Sam.
"The outer end is so devised that it is closed and water-tight till a
torpedo is fired and shoves it open. It is this which enables the
projectile to be loaded without endangering the flooding of the boat."
"Ker-rect again, my lad; go on. We're all listening. But you're
wrong in one point. The torpedo tube is not opened by the passage of
the torpedo through it. It is opened by the operation of a lever in
the conning tower."
"So much the better," said Tom. "Now, then, my plan is this: I will
creep into the torpedo tube. When I am inside it, one of you will
close the inside end. The outer end will then be opened by Sam, who
will remain by the opening lever. As the water rushes in, I will
dive outward and shoot up to the surface. We know pretty well where
Mr. Ironsides is confined. I shall swim to the bow of the tug and
see what chance there is of getting him out. If there is any, you
can rest assured that he will be back here within an hour."
"Bravo!" cried Sam. "That's a bully plan, my lad."
"Preposterous!" spoke the professor. "I shall not permit you to risk
your life in any such mad fashion."
"It won't be risking it," protested Tom; "at any rate, none of us can
be worse off than we are here. As for the danger, it's no more
dangerous than taking a dive off a springboard, only, in this case,
the process is reversed. I shall go up, instead of down."
The upshot of it was that Tom had his way. He kicked off his shoes
and all his garments but his underclothes. Thus attired, he was
ready for his great attempt.
"But how on earth are you going to get back on board again?"
exclaimed the professor, just as all was ready.
Oddly enough, none of them had thought of this, and, for a moment,
the objection threw cold water on their hopes. But it seemed that
Tom had figured this out, too. But he was not quite ready to
announce it.
"Friends, will you trust me for getting in again, if only I can
rescue Mr. Ironsides?" he said simply and without bravado.
"You bet we will, lad," quoth old Sam heartily. "A lad with a
figure-head like you on his bows ought to be able to carry anything
through."
Tom, the professor and Jeff then descended to the torpedo-room, while
old Sam stood ready at the lever, which, at the signal from below,
was to be so manipulated as to throw open the outer end of the tube.
"Good-by, and good luck," said the professor, with a warm clasp of
the hand, as the inner end of the tube was opened and Tom crept into
its narrow confines.
"It's so-long,--not good-by," laughed the lad lightly. "All ready,
now, professor. Close the inner door and give the signal as soon as
you like."
The metal fastenings closed behind Tom with a clash. He lay in total
darkness within the tube, which was just large enough to permit him
to lie outstretched at full length.
"I'm a human torpedo with a vengeance," thought the lad, as he
awaited in the darkness the opening of the outer door of the tube.
Thinly clad as he was, the metal chilled his skin. For the first
time since he had embarked on the adventure Tom felt a slight nervous
thrill run through him.
Suppose he should be caught in the mechanism at the mouth of the
tube? In that case he would drown as miserably as a rat. These and
a dozen other thoughts ran through his excited mind, as he lay there
waiting, through what was really only a short period, but which
seemed an eternity.
Suddenly a slight click could be heard. Tom braced himself; the
outer door was about to open and the water would rush in on him. He
drew a long breath, filling his lungs to the bursting point. The
next instant the outer door of the tube was opened and in rushed the
water. It seemed to Tom as if he had been struck by a steam-hammer,
so great was its force in the confined place. But he kept his wits
and struck out, and in a flash, as it seemed, he was on the surface
of the water outside the submarine.
The first move of his daring game had been accomplished. Far more
difficult, however, was what lay beyond.
Fortunately, it was pitchy dark. As he came to the surface, Tom
noticed that the air smelled sulphurous and heavy. He decided that a
thunderstorm was brewing. In fact, he presently became aware of
livid, snake-like flashes afar off.
Tom trod the water for a time while he looked about him. He was
quite close to the bow of the submarine, and, by stretching out his
hand, could have touched her sides.
Suddenly, a sound that he recognized as snoring smote on his ear. It
came from the guards who had been posted on the deck of the
diving-boat.
"Good!" thought Tom. "So far, everything is fine. Now, if the luck
will only hold, I'll have Mr. Ironsides on board in no time."
He struck out for the tug, which could be made out--a dark blot on
the water--at no considerable distance. He speedily reached her side
and snuggled in under the guard rail, where he was out of sight, till
he could get the "lay of the land."
Two men were talking on deck. Tom listened intently.
"Well, Hick," came one voice, "it looks like a lonely watch for you
and me."
"It does that, Joe. Here's the skipper ashore, and all the others
gets a chance to stretch their legs but us. We've got to stay and
guard that pesky submarine fellow in the forepeak."
"He won't take much guarding, I'm thinking," was the rejoinder; "that
padlock's good and tight, and it's too warm down in there fer him to
indulge in strenuous exercise."
"Tell you what," struck in the other man, "we're alone, and no one
can report to the captain. Let's have a game of cards to while away
the time. There's a deck of pasteboards in the skipper's cabin, and
we can sit down there, snug and sociable."
"That's a good idea. I'd like to get them two chaps off the
submarine to join us. I guess their watch is as lonely as ours."
"I'd like to get 'em, too. But the skipper's taken the only boat.
The same one those two kids ran off with."
The voices died away, and the two guardians of the tug evidently had
gone below to indulge in their game of cards.
Tom's heart beat high with hope. His plan was succeeding beyond even
his expectations. He had confirmation of the fact that Mr. Ironsides
was imprisoned in the forepeak, and then, too, the only men on the
ship were safe astern engrossed in a game.
One other thing in their conversation had struck Tom sharply. "The
boat those two kids ran off with."
That must mean that Jack and Sandy had escaped. No other
interpretation could be put on it. But where were the two lads? Tom
would have given a lot to know right then.
But it was no time for speculation. The necessity for action was
immediate. At any moment, for all he knew, the men might come back
from the shore, and then "good-by" to his hopes of freeing the
inventor.
The lad crept along the side of the tug till he reached the bow.
Then he clambered up the anchor-chain, and in a jiffy stood--a wet,
half-clothed figure--on the fore deck.
"I must look like a ghost or something, in these white clothes,"
thought the lad to himself, as he felt about in the darkness for the
forescuttle. Finally he found it, and softly tapped on it.
"Who's there?" came a voice from below, which he delightedly
recognized as that of Mr. Ironsides.
"Hush! It's me--Tom Dacre!" whispered the boy. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, but I am weak from lack of food and the heat in this place."
"I'll soon have you out of there," comforted Tom. "Just trust in me."
"I will, my boy," came the rejoinder. "You inspire one with
confidence."
Tom, as well as he could in the darkness, examined the padlock. It
was a heavy one, but the hasp seemed to be more or less loose.
Possibly Mr. Ironsides' efforts to escape had had that effect. At
any rate, Tom thought that if only he could get the instrument with
which to do it, he could pry up the hasp and free his friend.
But the question was, where to obtain that implement. While he was
still casting about in his mind, a heavy footfall resounded, and,
from round the corner of the pilot-house a figure emerged, making
directly for the boy.