"I shall have little use for this here, I'm afraid," he remarked with a smile."Well, there's some consolation.We're not likely to meet many ships in this part of the ocean.Other vessels are fond enough of remaining on the surface.I fancy we shall have the depths to ourselves, unless we meet a Government submarine, and they are hardly able to go as deep as we can.No, I guess we won't run into anything and I can put this glass away.""Unless we run into Berg and his crowd," suggested Tom in a low voice.
"Ha! ha!" laughed Captain Weston, for he did not want Mr.Swift to worry over the unscrupulous agent."No, I don't believe we'll meet them, Tom.I guess Berg is trying to work out the longitude and latitude I gave him.I wish I could see his face when he realizes that he's been deceived by that fake map.""Well, I hope he doesn't discover it too soon and trail us," went on the lad."But they're going to start the machinery now.I suppose you and I had better take charge of the steering of the craft.Dad will want to be in the engine-room.""All right," replied the captain, and he moved forward with the lad to a small compartment, shut off from the living-room, that served as a pilot house when the conning tower was not used.The same levers, wheels and valves were there as up above, and the submarine could be managed as well from there as from the other place.
"Is everything all right?" asked Mn Swift as he went into the engine- room, where Garret Jackson and Mr.Sharp were busy with oil cans.
"Everything," replied the balloonist."Are you going to start now?" "Yes, we're deep enough for a speed trial.We'll go out to sea, however,and try for a lower depth record, as soon as there's enough water.Start the engine."A moment later the powerful electric currents were flowing into the forward and aft plates, and the Advance began to gather way, forging through the water.
"Straight ahead, out to sea, Tom," called his father to him.
"Aye, aye, sir," responded the youth.
"Ha! Quite seaman-like, if you don't mind a reference to it," commented Captain Weston with a smile."Mind your helm, boy, for you don't want to poke her nose into a mud bank, or run up on a shoal.""Suppose you steer?" suggested the lad."I'd rather take lessons for a while.""All right.Perhaps it will be safer.I know these waters from the top, though I can't say as much for the bottom.However, I know where the shoals are."The powerful searchlight was turned, so as to send its beams along the path which the submarine was to follow, and then, as she gathered speed, she shot ahead, gliding through the waters like a fish.
Mr.Damon divided his time between the forward pilot-room, the living-apartment, and the place where Mr.Swift, Garret Jackson and Mr.Sharp were working over the engines.Every few minutes he would bless some part of himself, his clothing, or the ship.Finally the old man settled down to look through the plate-glass windows in the main apartment.
On and on went the submarine.She behaved perfectly, and was under excellent control.Some times Tom, at the request of his father, would send her toward the surface by means of the deflecting rudder.Then she would dive to the bottom again.Once, as a test, she was sent obliquely to the surface, her tower just emerging, and then she darted downward again, like a porpoise that had come up to roll over, and suddenly concluded to seek the depths.In fact, had any one seen the maneuver they would have imagined the craft was a big fish disporting itself.
Captain Weston remained at Tom's side, giving him instructions, and watching the compass in order to direct the steering so as to avoid collisions.For an hour or more the craft was sent almost straight ahead at medium speed.Then Mr.Swift, joining his son and the captain, remarked:
"How about depth of water here, Captain Weston?" "You've got more than a mile.""Good! Then I'm going down to the bottom of the sea! Tom, fill the tanks still more.
"Aye, aye, sir," answered the lad gaily."Now for a new experience!""And use the deflecting rudder, also," advised his father."That will hasten matters."Five minutes later there was a slight jar noticeable.
"Bless my soul! What's that?" cried Mr.Damon."Have we hit something?""Yes," answered Tom with a smile."What, for gracious sake?""The bottom of the sea.We're on the bed of the ocean."
