So far as that was concerned both Ballyhoo and Oscar were quite as enthusiastic as Jack about the project of passing through the canal. They had heard and read so much about those wonderful locks, and the strategical value the canal added to the defense of Uncle Sam’s dominions, that it was only natural all of them should wish to see the same with their own eyes.
When Ballyhoo, chancing to awaken, heard the steady sound of the pump going outside, and turning on the electric current close to his hand found that it was past seven, he gave a shout that aroused both his mates.
“Time we showed a leg, I’m telling you, fellows!” was the burden of his call. “I c’n smell breakfast in the air, to boot, and it must be broad daylight out there.”
“The pump is still wheezing,” remarked Jack, “which tells that they’ve kept it up steady all night long. They’ll be about played out by now, and must have a rest.”
“There, it’s stopped working now. I wonder how many more of those jolly bricks they’ve hauled up,” observed the Jones boy, as he hurriedly proceeded to get his clothes on. “From the fact of their keeping busy while we slept I reckon they must have been meeting with some good luck. I hope they don’t weight the old tub down with the stuff so there’ll be danger of her foundering. Sometimes a fellow can get too much of a good thing; I’ve been in that fix myself when they had a party at our house, and ice cream left over.”
“Don’t worry about that,” laughed Oscar. “If it comes to it the captain can jettison heaps of stuff to make room for the ingots. Those barrels and planks took up a lot of space, you remember. And if necessary some of us could go back on a regular steamer.”
“Of course you’re only joshing me when you say that, Oscar,” remonstrated Ballyhoo reproachfully. “There will be plenty more queer things to be seen in this under-the-sea hunt, and we started out to get all there are.”
Soon afterwards they climbed to the upper deck, to find Captain Shooks just coming over from the raft. One of the divers had been hauled to the surface, and the men manning the air pump had quit work.
“Looks like we had about come to the end of our rope here, lads,” remarked the skipper pleasantly, though he did look tired to death from being on duty so long, not to mention the several times he had donned a diver’s suit and gone below.
“Cleaned out, do you mean, Captain?” demanded Ballyhoo.