“Easy to laugh as to cry,” replied Rawlins. “All’s well that ends well, you know. I guess you’re glad you didn’t go down now.”
“You bet we are!” declared Frank. “Gee! I don’t believe I’ll ever go down again. I’d imagine there were devil fish waiting for me everywhere. Ugh!”
“Never had to tackle one before,” said Rawlins, “and I’ve been diving for years. Well, I guess I’m O.K. I’ll get busy on that wreck again.”
“Not for one minute!” said Mr. Pauling decisively. “You’ll just forget that wreck—at least as long as you are with me. If you feel all right we’ll get out of here as quick as we can and get some fresh air—I’m stifling and my heart’s still beating like a trip hammer.”
“Well, I suppose you’re the boss,” grinned Rawlins, “but it’s a shame to clear out with that old galleon and a lot of loot so handy.”
“Bother the galleon and her loot!” burst out Mr. Henderson. “No more nonsense on this trip. We’ve had enough of under-sea work to last a lifetime.”
Ten minutes later, the submarine was floating on the surface and standing in the bright warm sunshine on deck, with the placid blue sea about and the rich green island beyond, the boys could scarcely believe that they had really undergone such a frightful experience. It seemed like some unreal, horrible nightmare, but the round raw spots on Rawlins’ hands where the creature’s suckers had gripped him were proof of the reality of the battle, and every time the boys thought of it they shuddered and cold chills ran up and down their spines.
Rawlins made little of it, joking and laughing as if such matters were of everyday occurrence, while Sam, fully recovered from the effects of his daring rescue, refused to be considered a hero and was ill at ease and embarrassed whenever a word of praise or commendation was expressed.
Very soon Santo Domingo was so close that Rawlins advised running submerged and, pointing out a low valley-like expanse extending far into the hills, declared it to be the entrance to Caña Honda Bay. With the periscope just visible above the sea, and hugging the shores as closely as they dared, the submarine was run slowly into the narrow opening while the boys, stationed at their instruments, listened for the faintest hint of a whirring screw in their vicinity. But no sound broke the silence under the sea and no sign of another craft was seen.
Well up the bay and behind a densely wooded point the sub-sea craft was run into a smaller bay and then, emerging, Rawlins piloted her through a crooked river-like channel until safely screened back of a low sandy beach covered with a grove of coconut trees.