“I notice that already you’re beginning to have a lot of trouble pulling your cap on,” Jack told him; “and if you take my advice you’ll think twice before you jump up so hastily. It’s going to be a good thing to tone you down, Ballyhoo. Beware of getting a swelled head.”
They spent the evening as best the conditions allowed. Space was at such a high premium down inside the little submarine craft that there could be no moving around except in exceptional cases. On this account they had to sit close together and amuse themselves by exchanging views on various subjects, writing up their logs, and, of course, thinking of those left at home.
Then came the time for sleep. Ballyhoo had quite exhausted himself through his fierce exertions in the water, coupled with the mental anguish he must certainly have endured. Consequently, he was dozing long before either of the others thought to retire.
At the time Oscar crawled into his tight-fitting bunk it was four bells, or ten o’clock. He lay there for some time planning, and also allowing his mind to travel back to former scenes, most of them pleasant in their nature.
The engines were working steadily, and he could hear the singular “swish” of the water just beyond the steel shell of the boat alongside his head. How strange it was to realize that he meant to calmly seek forgetfulness in slumber while they were many fathoms under the sea, and traveling along at an eight-knot speed; just as though that had always been the customary method of procedure, instead of a very recent innovation and novelty.
Then finally he lost himself, and during the balance of the night really awoke only three times.
It was on one of these occasions that Oscar knew from a change in the sounds coming to his ears that they were ascending to the surface again. He could hear the throb of the electric motors pumping the water ballast from the reservoirs, which could be emptied in a marvelously short time should necessity compel such haste.
He lay there listening until assured that once again they were afloat on the bosom of the deep, and continuing their voyage. Somehow the full significance of this gave him a sense of relief; it was certainly more natural that they should be cruising on rather than under the water. And soon fresh air would be circulating through the interior of the boat, when the ventilation shafts were opened.
Then came morning, and the boys upon awakening made all haste possible to get on deck, where they found Captain Shooks, partly dressed, with a glorious red flannel nightcap still covering his bald head, as he took a look around through his glasses.
The boys, too, made use of their opportunity, and scoured the horizon diligently. So far as they could see there was no sign of the suspicious black steam yacht; and it seemed as if they had successfully eluded Badger and his crew.