“It’s a funny thing,” remarked Frank during a lull in the under-sea conversation, “I thought they’d get out of range very soon. I never would have believed that these little fifty-meter waves could carry that far with only a two-foot grid for an aërial. The water must be a heap better for waves than the air.”
Then there was an interval when no sounds came in and Frank was about to call to Tom when, to his ears, came a suppressed “Wha—wha” followed by a hoarse “Sssh!”
Whether Rawlins had intended this for Tom or himself Frank did not know, but he decided that, for some unknown reason, the diver wished silence and so wisely refrained from speaking.
“I would like to know what Mr. Rawlins wanted to be quiet for,” said Frank, holding his hand over
the mouthpiece of his microphone. “But I suppose there’s some good reason for it.”
Scarcely had he ceased speaking when he was startled by a sharp exclamation of surprise from Tom.
So unexpected was it that Frank responded involuntarily. “What’s that you said?” he asked, exactly as though Tom had been there in the room. But there was no audible reply, merely some faint sounds like subdued whispers, followed by silence.
“Gee, there’s something mighty funny going on!” exclaimed Frank, addressing Henry. “Tom said ‘Gosh’ something and then, when I answer he doesn’t say a thing—just some little sounds like whispers. Say, I do wonder what they’re up to!”
“Oh, I expect they’re trying to see if they can talk together without your hearing them,” suggested Henry. “Probably that’s why Mr. Rawlins told you to be quiet.”
“Well, I’m going to find out,” declared Frank. “They’ve no right to keep us wondering like this.”