“Yes. Come on!” Once more she gripped his hand and this time they advanced slowly, cautiously. Not a twig snapped.
Once again they paused as a low, bumping sound reached their ears.
A moment more and they came out of the jungle, on a broad, sandy beach. Instantly Johnny’s well-trained eyes swept the sea. The moon was just rising. It painted a golden path across the waters, far into the distance. But there was no sign of a boat.
“Can you beat that!” Johnny murmured, softly.
“We must have been mistaken,” said Mildred, wonderingly.
“Only we were not!” Johnny thought. But he made no comment.
Gripping his arm, the girl led him along the beach until they came upon a mark in the sand.
“A boat was pulled up here,” she said, positively.
Johnny threw a gleam of light on the spot. “Queer sort of mark,” he murmured. “No regular boat! It’s like the mark a white man’s boat would make—or perhaps a collapsible boat.”
A moment later his eyes caught a faint gleam. Pretending to examine the sand, he stooped over to pick up a metal disc. Without knowing just why, he thrust it into his pocket.
“What she doesn’t know won’t worry her,” he told himself a moment later.
“Well,” Mildred said, in a tone of forced cheerfulness, “this seems to be the end of the search. Let’s go back.”
“O.K.”
They turned about and were soon threading their way back through the jungle. “Johnny,” she said at last, “We need our boat more than ever, now.”
“For protection as well as profit?”
“Yes.”
“Ask Dave to take you down in the steel ball,” Johnny suggested. “He’ll do it, I’m sure, as he’s in love with the professor’s invention. Can’t say I blame him, either. After that—ask him to help find your boat”.
“I’ll ask him tonight, if he’ll take me down.”
And she did.
“What’s that?” Dave asked, as they all sat on the porch, a little later. “You want to go down in our steel ball?”
“Yes. Yes—I—I’d like to.” The words took real courage, as she didnotwant to. In fact—she was dreadfully frightened at the thought. And yet—
“Well,” said Dave, “I don’t see why you shouldn’t—tomorrow.”
“To—tomorrow?” She shuddered slightly, but he could not see her, in the dark.
“Yes, tomorrow. There’ll be no picture-taking. I’m going after a sea-green monster—probably the largest octopus anyone ever saw!”
“Oh—o—o!”
“He won’t getyou,” Dave laughed. “Can’t get inside the ball. What do you say? Is it a date?”
“Yes—I—yes! Yes! Sure it is!”
“Fine! Can you be on board at eight in the morning?”
“Yes—I—I’ll be there. Thanks—thanks a lot!”
“Well,” she whispered to Johnny a short time later. “He’s going to take me down! Tomorrow! And I’m scared pink!”
“You needn’t be,” Johnny laughed. “It’s safer than an auto on Michigan Avenue in Chicago! And just think—you’ll be the first young lady ever to go down five hundred feet beneath the surface of the sea! At least, I imagine you will!”
“That,” she replied with a slightly unsteady chuckle, “will be a very great honor!”
* * * * * * * *
As Johnny changed to heavier clothes for his watch, later that night, the disc he had found on the beach, fell from his pocket.
He picked it up and realized instantly that it was a button from a uniform jacket.
“So that’s it!” he murmured, as he buried it deep in his pocket.
A night on this tropical river, into which they had come for easier access to the Kennedy cottage, was a new and interesting experience for Johnny. Mangrove trees, growing far out over the river, all but touched the deck. A troop of monkeys, apparently planning to cross the river on swinging branches, came chattering along to burst into a sudden frenzy of fear and anger at sight of this intruder. Crocodiles floated lazily on the dark surface of the water. Their eyes shone like balls of fire when Johnny’s flashlight was directed at them.
From the far distance came the singing of men and women, a native chant. A little later, paddles gleaming in the light, some of the singers floated past. Their large dugout was loaded with all manner of tropical fruits—bananas, pineapples, wild oranges and mangoes.
“What a life,” Johnny murmured, as the natives drifted past. He thought of the conditions of thousands of persons in the great cities of America—then looked out again at that boatload of people. It would be grand, he thought, to live here forever. And yet, there were the spies, and debts to those Europeans.
“Debts,” he sighed, “that haunt them till they die.”
Doris came on deck. “You justcan’tsleep on such a night!” she sighed. “It’s too wonderful—the river, the moonlight, and the dark, mysterious jungle at night.”
“And the spies,” Johnny added. “Don’t forget them!”
“The—the spies?” She stared at him.
He told her of his adventure with Mildred, and, of the mysterious night singers.
“They vanished,” he ended. “Vanished into thin air. And they had a boat of some sort. We saw its mark in the sand.”
“How thrilling! How sort of spooky!” she murmured.
“And there’s the code of the green arrow,” Johnny added. “We solved that—or rather Mildred did.” He explained it to her.
“That sounds dangerous.” She seemed a little startled. “But it—it doesn’t affect us, does it?”
“No—oo—not directly,” he responded. “But they are spies, all right! Their message shows that. You can’t have counter-spies without first having spies. If they should chance to think thatweare the counter-spies, and that we’re watching them from the steel ball, and—”
“The steel ball! Howcouldwe?”
“Well,” Johnny replied slowly, “perhaps we couldn’t. That was just a notion. But wecouldbe counter-spies.”
“But we’re not!”
“That,” he laughed, “is what they may not know.”
“Oh, you and your spies!” she exclaimed. “You’re always taking the joy out of life. Look at that moon!”
“I have been looking at it. Big as a barrel!”
“Gorgeous,” she agreed. “Do you know?” she stepped over to the rail. “I’ve been thinking of that picture you suggested—the one painted beneath the sea. It would be wonderfully colorful—all those bright, tropical fish, the waving water-ferns, the coral, and all that. I’m going to try it, some time. Only—”
“Only what?”
“The sharks.”
“They won’t trouble you. I’ll stay on deck and watch. If anything comes after you, I’ll be right down. Is it a bargain?”
“I’ll do it.” She put out a hand and, solemnly, they “shook” on it.
Ten minutes later Johnny was alone with his thoughts, and the night. They were long, long thoughts. He was working out a theory about the messages of the Green Arrow, and the whisperings beneath the sea.
One question brought him up with a start. If these people were foreign spies—why did they speak inEnglish? For a time, this was a poser. But then the answer came, and he threw back his head and laughed! Foreign spies, sent to America would berequiredto speak English! If they were keeping in touch with some of their own people by short-wave—of coursethey would speak English! Otherwise, anyone listening-in on their messages, would instantly suspect them.
That the messages of the green arrow also were in English, was not so easy to explain. “Perhaps talking and sending messages in English, has become force of habit with them,” he told himself.
The night was long, too, and he was tired. He rejoiced when the first flush of dawn told him a new day was here.
Dave came on deck early. “We’ll be getting out of here at eight,” he said. “I guess you know that I’m taking Mildred down below, today. It’ll be interesting to see how a girl reacts to all that strange environment. She seems a bit timid. But she asked for it. So—”
“There’s someoneI’dlike to take down,” Johnny said, suddenly.
“Who?” Dave questioned.
“Old Samatan.”
“In the name of goodness!” Dave exclaimed. “Why?”
“He acts very queer about that steel ball—looks as if he’d like to bite a chunk out of it, and I don’t understand it.”
Johnny hesitated. “Perhaps if someone took him down, it would clear up some mistaken notions in his queer old head. He seems to have a lot of influence with the other natives. If anything should happen—”
“Nothing will happen.” Dave broke in. “This is the quietest place in the world.”
“Do you think so?” Johnny asked, with a little smile.
Dave nodded, absently. “But if you’d like to take Samatan down,” he added, “it’s O.K. with me. Be a grand experience for the old fellow. He’d never get over telling about it.”
“Soon?” asked Johnny.
“Any time you like,” was the answer.
Thanking Dave, Johnny ambled off to his berth for a long and dreamless sleep.
Morning came and, for Mildred—the ride in that steel ball.
Never in all her life had she been so thrilled, and so frightened. Curled up inside the sturdy metal sphere, she went down—down—down, into the mysterious depths of the ocean. The light from the quartz window seemed bright blue, yet she experienced trouble in distinguishing small objects within the ball.
The creatures outside the window were strange beyond belief. Here a great school of blue fish shot past. There a six-foot monster with waving tail sped on in swift pursuit of smaller fry. And a group of small, dark, crab-like creatures wriggled their way across the scene. A little farther from the window loomed a dark wall. She shuddered at sight of this. All too vividly she recalled Johnny’s account of their harrowing experience on that other day.
At Johnny’s first suggestion that she accompany Dave on this sub-sea journey, her impulse had been to say quite definitely—“No! I won’t go!”
But she had not said it. She just must have Dave’s help in finding their schooner. So—she continued to shudder as they went down—down—down.
Dave was at her side, saying never a word. Staring at the passing scene, now throwing on a powerful light, now switching it off again, he appeared to have forgotten she was there.
It was to be a very short trip, perhaps only half an hour. They were to make an attempt to capture some fantastic sort of creature. Mildred was thinking of this now, wondering in a vague sort of way, how the capture was to be made. Then suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted. Her heart skipped a beat as Dave exclaimed:
“Man! Oh, man!”
The steel ball was now close to the wall. For the moment, at a command from Dave, it had ceased dropping. Suddenly from a crevice in the wall there glided a form resembling a great golden serpent from a fairy tale.
“Zowie!” Dave chuckled, “he sure looks dangerous—but he’s not. A golden-tailed serpent dragon,” he explained. “They’re quite rare.
“Now,” he spoke into his microphone, “slowly downward.”
Once more the rocky ledge appeared to glide upward.
“Should be there soon,” Dave murmured. “Only hope the old boy is at home. He probably is. But we may miss him. It’s hard to get the right location.”
For Dave this brief expedition had one purpose—to capture the immense, sea-green octopus he had seen on a previous trip. As they continued to sink into the depths, his eyes remained fixed on that wall. Then of a sudden he exclaimed:
“There! There he is!”
Adjusting his microphone he said:
“Doris, we are here. Stop the cable drum.”
The ball ceased to sink. For a full moment Mildred saw only a dark cavern in the wall. Then suddenly she was startled to discover two large eyes staring out at her.
A moment more and a long arm came wavering toward them.
“Doris,” said Dave. His voice was steady. “Have them swing us out a bit. Ten feet may do.” Then, seconds later, he said: “There. That’s it.”
He began working at something close beside him. As Mildred watched the dark cavern she saw an arm reach out, then another. For a time these appeared to wave aimlessly. Then they took direction. To her astonishment she saw that a steel rod had swung outward toward the octopus from the bottom of the ball. At the end of this arm were steel clamps, and in the clamps she saw a dead lobster. The terrifying tentacles of the octopus, appearing fully twenty feet long, were moving toward the lobster.
“The octopus feeds on shell fish—crabs and lobsters,” Dave explained briefly.
“Now,” he breathed, as one long arm encircled the steel clamps. “Now—I wonder what luck.” Once again he worked at levers and small handscrews at his side. The clamp out there in the water half opened, then closed again. This was repeated twice. Then:
“Ah! Got him!” Dave’s voice rose exultantly. Into the phone he whispered, “Doris. Out a little—and then up, at top speed!”
To her astonishment Mildred saw a great mass of twisting arms emerge from the cavern. One by one these arms wound themselves about the steel ball. One of these, a great scaly affair with little suckers on its underside, crossed the window. With a little cry of dismay she shrank back.
“He can’t get to you,” Dave laughed. “Even if he could, he’d be harmless enough, unless he drew you beneath the water and drowned you.
“You see,” he added, “while the octopus was working to get that lobster, I opened the clamps. His arm slipped in, and I closed them. Now he’s making himself comfortable for the ride. It will be a longer ride than you might suppose—all the way to the New York aquarium! And boy! Will he be something to look at! Largest ever captured, I’m sure—and sea-green at that. This being a naturalist is the berries, when things are right. All you have to do—
“Hello!” he exclaimed. “Here we are at the top, already. Now for some work.”
Before making any attempt to get the big-eyed octopus into the ship’s pool for live specimens, Dave assisted Mildred from the ball. When she climbed forth, she felt a cold chill course down her spine. Those great, scaly arms were not a foot from her head. But they did not move.
“Good boy, Dave!” the professor exclaimed half an hour later, as they watched the octopus surveying his prison tank in theSea Nymph’shold. “That is a real prize! A few finds like that and we will have more than paid our way.
“I like to think,” he added, quietly, “that we are truly serving the millions of people whose only chance to see rare creatures of land or sea is in the zoos and aquariums.”
“I am sure itisa great service,” Mildred exclaimed. “But professor! What spooky waters those are down there!”
“Yes, they are spooky,” the professor agreed. “But today, I take it, they were not whispering?”
“No,” the girl agreed. “The whisperer seems to have vanished.”
“These little undersea journeys always make me hungry,” said Dave. “Come on Mildred—let’s have a cup of tea.”
Seated under a colored umbrella on deck, they sipped their tea in silence. Mildred was thinking—“I wonder if this is the time to ask him?”
It was Dave who at last broke the silence.
“Well, Mildred,” he said, “you behaved very well for the first time down. I was wondering—”
“If a girl could take it,” she smiled. “Down here we just have to—all the time.”
“How so?” he asked in surprise. “In what way?”
“Well, only a few days ago grandfather lost his motorboat. It’s somewhere at the bottom of the sea, but not far down. I wasn’t on board when it sank. And now,” she hesitated, “now fresh dangers appear to threaten us, and we have no boat either for trading or—or for escape!”
“Escape? Escape from what?” Dave ejaculated.
“Well, we might have to escape, you see.” Mildred leaned forward eagerly. Her eyes shone. “Grandfather always has opposed those men—spies, really—who are trying to get all the islanders under their control. So they hate him. Just recently—”
She went on to tell of the code message flashed by the green arrow and of other strange and unexplained happenings. “Of course,” she added, “nothing has beendoneyet. But you never can tell.”
“And you want me to help you find that motorboat of yours, with my steel ball? Am I a good guesser?”
“You certainly are,” the girl replied, frankly.
“And you didn’t really want to go down in the steel ball—you were terribly frightened by the thought? But you believed it might help, so—”
“So I went,” she breathed. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Mind?” he exploded. “I think you are a grand, brave, little girl. If you were my sister,”—he paused to grin good naturedly.
Smiling back at him, Mildred felt sure she would be aided in her search for her grandfather’s motorboat. The thought made her very happy.
Once again it was night.
Johnny walked slowly back and forth along the narrow deck. There was about him on this night a sense of uneasiness, as if some unusual thing was about to happen, or possibly a whole succession of things, which might change the whole course of his life.... That very evening he had heard old Samatan making a speech to the native crew—a fiery sort of speech, with the men uttering grunts of approval every now and then.
“I’ll take him down in the steel ball tomorrow, if I get the chance,” Johnny assured himself. “That should cool him off!”
Samatan, however, was not the only cause of his uneasiness. There was the sign of the green arrow, those singers, and the boat mark on the beach—and Mr. Kennedy’s constant talk of spies. All these, he felt, were part of a strange pattern of events.
“The whole thing may blow up any time,” he told himself. “And then what—” His thoughts were interrupted suddenly. He sprang forward. He could swear he had seen something move near the steel ball.
“No one here now,” he murmured, circling the ball, slowly. “Imagined it, I guess. My nerves are jumpy tonight.”
A whole succession of small, dark clouds, high in the heavens, had been passing before the moon. One moment the deck was white with moonlight; the next, it was dark as the deep sea.
Johnny laughed softly, and found it helped steady him. Taking another turn ’round the steel ball, he walked past the open top of the tank in which the giant, sea-green octopus was kept. As he came alongside, there was a sudden splash—as if the creature had thrown out a long arm and allowed it to drop. It gave him a real start. Suppose the monster reached out for him and really made connections. Suppose—
There was that darting shadow again. Or was it? Just then a big cloud hid the moon.
“It’s nothing,” he assured himself. “Can’t be. Crew’s all asleep. No chance of anyone coming on board without being seen. Guess I’ll have to take a good, long, drink of cold water.”
Going to the stern he obtained his thermos bottle, uncorked it and drank.
Then he dropped into a steamer chair to await the reappearance of the moon from behind that big, black cloud.
The cloud still obscured it when, swift as a shot, he leapt straight into the air, as from the octopus tank came a shrill, hair-raising scream of terror.
“Great Jehosophat!” he exclaimed as he sprinted down the deck.
One flash of his electric torch showed a hand waving wildly above the surface of the water. An instant later a head bobbed up. Eyes wild, nostrils dilated, the mouth opened in another unearthly scream as the victim vanished beneath the water, now thoroughly roiled by the octopus’ savage threshing.
Long slimy arms appeared—here, there—seemingly everywhere. Then again, a man’s head broke the surface.
But now Johnny was on the steel ladder, reaching for the hand that had followed the head above water. Seizing it, and wrapping his left arm about a rung of the ladder, he pulled with all his might. That he was taking his life in his hands, he well knew. Those scaly arms seemed to be feeling forhim. If they reached him—
All the while, Johnny was thinking, “Who is this person and how did he get on board?”
Thanks to Johnny’s good right arm, the man’s head remained above the surface. He was a swarthy individual, with short-cropped, black hair. Spitting out a quantity of water, he whispered hoarsely:
“Don’t let him! Don’t let him pull me back under!”
There came a sudden tug that all but broke Johnny’s grip on the man’s hand. At the same time, waving above the disturbed surface of the tank, a long, slimy arm seemed to feel for the boy on the ladder.
Then, to Johnny’s vast relief, came Dave’s voice, calling:
“Johnny! Johnny Thompson! Where are you?”
“Here! Here in the tank! Help—andhurry!” Johnny shouted, desperately.
There came the sound of running feet along the deck. At that very instant, a scaly tentacle found Johnny’s wrist and wrapped itself about the two hands, binding them together as with a band of steel.
“Wha—what’s happened?” Dave threw a flash of light on the fantastic scene. His quick eye took it all in at a glance. “Hang on, Johnny! I—I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Then he was gone.
The tremendous power of that steady pull from the tank, promised to wrench Johnny’s arm from its socket. The stranger in the pool uttered a low groan. Johnny’s mind went into a tailspin, but he hung on desperately. How would this end? Would Daveneverarrive?
“Now!” came from above, and Dave was back. In one hand he held an automatic, and in the other, what appeared to be an iron rod.
“Get ready for an electric shock,” he said, quietly. “I think this will fix him.”
He thrust out the rod until it touched one arm of the octopus. Next instant, Johnny felt a powerful electric shock that brought his muscles up with a jerk. Again, and yet again came the shock. Johnny could hear the stranger’s teeth chatter. Then he saw the fellow’s other hand. It was free. At the same time the scaly thing about his wrist began to relax.
Giving a powerful pull, he lifted the stranger half out of the water. Twenty seconds later they both were free, and tumbled, panting, on the deck.
For a full minute Johnny lay motionless. When at last he sat up he said to Dave:
“Hang onto that gun. You may need it.”
Turning to the swarthy stranger he demanded:
“What were you doing on this boat?”
“I was just a-passin’ by, and took a notion to climb aboard,” the stranger muttered.
“You are lying,” said Johnny. “You were spying into things! Why?”
“I wasn’t spying! I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said the man.
“I don’t think he’s a spy,” said Dave. “He’s just some native.”
“Native, my eye!” snapped Johnny. He had noted the outline of a long knife, showing through the fellow’s wet garments.
By this time the native crew was swarming up from below, and Doris and the professor were standing in the shadows.
“Let the fellow go,” Dave whispered to Johnny. “He’s just some native who happened by in a dugout, saw our boat and thought he’d have a look. He might have meant to steal something, but you can’t prove that. We don’t want to get these natives excited. They might leave us in a body. Then where would we be?”
“Oh—all right,” Johnny agreed, reluctantly. To the man he said: “Come with me.”
The man’s boat was tied to a belaying pin up forward. As they walked in that direction, Johnny and the intruder were out of sight of the others, for a moment.
“I’ll just take this to remember you by,” said Johnny, dragging the man’s knife from its sheath. “If you’re a native—you should carry a machete.”
The man favored him with a mocking smile, then bolted over the rail into his small boat and was gone.
“Well, that’s that!” said Johnny, as he rejoined the others. “Here’s hoping he doesn’t come back.”
“Johnny,” said Dave, “I wonder if you weren’t making a whole lot out of a very little.”
“Perhaps I was,” Johnny answered quietly. He saw no point in arguing.
A moment later he said: “Dave—what was that thing you shocked the octopus with?”
“That was an electric gun,” Dave laughed. “We use it while we’re exploring the sea-bottom on foot. If some big fish, like a shark, gets too curious—we touch him and pull the trigger. Believe me, they beat it!
“It’s lucky I had it,” he added. “Otherwise I’m afraid I should have been obliged to kill our prize, and that would have been a great loss. By the way, Johnny, how did that fellow get into the tank?”
“Tumbled in, I suppose. Probably thought he was going down into the hold to prowl around.”
“I wonder why?” said Dave.
But Johnny didn’t see fit to discuss the matter further.
After the others had retired again, Johnny took the stranger’s knife to the light and examined it closely. Never had he seen such perfect workmanship. The blade was of hand-forged steel, with a handle of old ivory. Two foreign words were stamped on the blade. Johnny could not read them, but he knew very well this was no native’s knife.
“A spy, beyond a doubt,” he muttered. “Wonder how many there will be tomorrow night. Dave must let me have a gun!”
Just then the moon came out from behind a cloud, flooding the deck with white light. What a difference that made. All the mystery of the night seemed to fade.
Johnny shrugged his shoulders and continued to pace the deck.
Next day Johnny took Samatan for a ride in the steel ball. He had supposed it would be difficult, if not impossible, to induce the dignified old native to accompany him, but he was due for a surprise.
“Samatan,” he said pleasantly, “you know we have been making trips far beneath the surface of the sea in that steel ball.”
“Yes!” Suddenly Samatan was alert.
“Dave and I—we—well we thought you might like to go down.”
“In the big ball?” The native’s eyes shone, eagerly.
“Yes, that’s right.” Johnny answered.
“Today?” asked Samatan.
“If you wish.”
“In one hour,” said Samatan.
An hour later, Samatan took his place beside Johnny in the steel ball, watched the massive, steel cap being screwed into place, felt the bump of the ball on the deck, then sensed their drop into the sea. All this—in stoical silence.
Down they went, a hundred feet—two hundred—five hundred—a thousand. By the small light at his side, Johnny watched the native’s face. The expression never changed.
“He seems to be expecting something interesting and exciting,” the boy told himself. “Wonder what it could be. If he’s afraid, he sure doesn’t show it.”
As they sank lower and lower, the darkness increased. At last, as Johnny threw off the electric light and all about them was inky black, from the native’s lips came a hiss of surprise. That was all.
When Johnny threw on a powerful light, the look of expectation on Samatan’s face returned.
“Strange sort of person,” the boy thought. “What can he be expecting to see?”
They were now standing still. The professor on deck, had decided their descent had gone far enough.
As Johnny sat staring into the inky blackness before them, he gave a sudden start, then snatched his camera. There, plainly in view, was one of the strangest monsters he ever had seen.
Scarcely had he adjusted his camera for a picture, than a second creature appeared.
“Must be a school of them.” His hand trembled a little.
Just as the camera clicked there began the most amazing and terrifying experience of Johnny’s eventful life. As though pushed by a giant hand, as a child pushes a playmate in a rope swing, the steel ball moved rapidly outward and upward—although Johnny had given no signal!
Outward and upward—one hundred—two hundred—three hundred feet. Who could say how far? What mysterious power motivated this wild ride, and where would it end? Would the cable snap?
Johnny made no effort to conceal the horror reflected in his face by this thought. Sealed in a steel ball, resting on the bottom of the sea, half a mile or more below surface. What chance? The boy’s lips moved, but no sound came. Then, by sheer will power, he adopted a calmer mood and waited the turn of events.
Samatan neither moved nor spoke. Strange Samatan! Did he think this was part of the show? And what had he been waiting so patiently to see?
There was even greater consternation on board theSea Nymph.
Dave had gone ashore for a bit of dry-land exploring but, with Doris at his side, the professor stood watching the pumps that sent air to the occupants of the steel ball. His gaze, reflecting serious concern, was focused intently on the gauge registering strain on the steel ball’s cables.
“Doris!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Look, Doris!Look! The strain has doubled!The cable is perilously near the breaking point!”
“Poor Johnny!” Doris cried, distractedly. “Down there with old Samatan! If the cable breaks—”
“If the cable breaks—no power on earth can save them!” The professor’s voice dropped. “The bottom must be a full mile down and I doubt whether the ball could withstand the terrific pressure. Nor is there any way we could bring it to the surface!”
“What can be done?” Doris was wringing her hands.
“Pray!” was the professor’s simple reply. “Strange things are accomplished by prayer, and faith.”
Dorisdidpray. Then they waited in silence. Ten seconds ticked their way into eternity. Twenty—thirty—sixty. The arrow of the gauge moved nearer the “maximum strain” point at the top of the dial—and stood still. Then, for a brief second, it moved forward again.
“The cable! It can never stand the torsion!” the professor groaned.
Just as all seemed lost, the arrow quivered—and began, slowly, to move the other way.
“Thank God!” exclaimed the professor, fervently. “It—it’s going down, Doris, child.”
Staring at the dial, Doris opened her lips in silent thanksgiving. She could only stand and stare.
What had happened?
That was a question that remained unanswered for weeks. Some tremendous power behind the steel ball had pushed it away and up, until its certain doom seemed inevitable.
Then, with a sudden, rolling lurch, the ball had been freed and at once began sinking to its original position. Fortunately, the resistance of the water was so great, there was no danger that the stopping of the descent would snap the cable.
As they reached bottom position, Johnny grabbed Samatan’s hand and gripped it, impulsively.
Then it was that the native said a strange thing:
“You go bottom now?” he asked, hopefully.
“No,” said Johnny, happily. “But we aresafe, man! I’m signalling them to draw us up!”
“No go bottom?” There was a suggestion of disappointment in Samatan’s voice.
Suddenly Johnny thought he understood. Samatan had expected to see bottom. That was what he had wanted, and it explained his strange eagerness to go down. Butwhy? What did he expect to see there?
Johnny, however, was far too eagerly awaiting the first, faint gleam of light as they rose, to think much more about Samatan’s behavior.
The strange “dawn beneath the sea” came to him once again. Such a glorious dawn! He was to live on! What a privilege it became, suddenly, just to live! The ball rose free of the water, to swing about and bump gently down to the deck. A few moments later, the professor and Doris were gripping his hands and demanding to know what had happened.
“What in the world went wrong?” they asked, in chorus.
“We ran into a school of monsters.” Johnny was now able to laugh at his predicament. “They must have taken us for a ride, I guess!”
“What kind of monsters?” The professor was so serious his voice trembled.
“You won’t believe me if I tell you,” the boy replied, soberly, “but here goes. They had heads twice as large as their bodies! And those heads! If only their mouths had been a little larger, they might have swallowed our steel ball at one gulp!”
“Did they have a small lower jaw and a large upper one? Were their eyes set well back on the side of their heads? Did their tails wave like those of some tropical fish?” The professor was growing excited.
“Yes, yes, and yes,” Johnny laughed again. “But say—I tried to take pictures of them! Wonder if they could have been good! Wait till I get my camera.” He made a dive into the steel ball to reappear at once with the camera.
“But Johnny!” Doris insisted, “you haven’t told us what really happened?”
“I don’t know, and that’s a fact!” replied Johnny, quietly, soberly. “I was just taking pictures of those beasts when—”
“They’re known as little big-heads,” the professor broke in, “and they are rare, indeed! You are the first person ever to see them alive. Two specimens have been found washed up on coral beaches, dead. You are a truly great explorer, Johnny! You may now take a bow.”
“Aw, say!” Johnny fairly blushed.
“Anyway,” he insisted, “one of them must have become tangled in our cable, and in his wild efforts to free himself, took us for an underseas joyride!”
“That doesn’t seem possible,” mused the professor, slowly. “I should like to know what really happened.”
“So should I!” Johnny agreed. “All I have to say is—I’d like them to stay clear of our cable, in the future! Please look at my hair! Do you think it will turn white?”
“In thirty or forty years,” Doris laughed. “But Johnny—we’re dying to see those pictures.”
“Yes, yes!—by all means!” the professor agreed. “Let us see them at once.” So they crowded into Johnny’s small darkroom to watch the enthralling “coming out” of one more set of plates.
* * * * * * * *
“Little big-heads,” the professor whispered solemnly, as the pictures began to appear. “Johnny, you are a wonder! Once again we have registered a real triumph!”
“I’m glad of that,” Johnny said, sincerely. “I like being a success. But even better—I enjoy living!
“I’m sure I’ll not be able to sleep in the dark for months to come,” he said, more lightly. “I’ll be imagining I’m still in that steel ball, swinging wide in utter darkness!”
“Johnny,” Doris whispered some time later, “Whatreallytook you for that ride?”
“I could only guess—and it would be a wild guess, at that!” There was a suggestion of mystery in his voice. “I’m sure of one thing, though. It wasn’t any little big-head!”
Doris, standing on the ocean’s floor forty feet down, started back in sudden terror, and her foot struck a rock. She all but fell over. On the beach she would have taken a terrible tumble.
“It was just a shadow,” she told herself. “Only a shadow moving beyond that great rock. A blue shadow. Grandfather said I’d be in no danger, and he should know.”
Involuntarily she put a hand over her wildly beating heart, then smiled at her action and at once felt better.
“I must finish,” she told herself, stoutly, as she resumed her task.