The special diving compartment in which Charlie and Russ were seated filled with water. Gently the S-18 eased toward the bottom, scarcely more than a foot at a time.
Ten, twenty, thirty, forty feet they went down. Tim watched the gauges fascinated.
The two divers, in their heavily armored suits, sat quietly in their compartment as the pressure increased with the depth.
The 100-foot mark was passed. Still the S-18 was going down. Roy Gould snapped on a switch. Powerful searchlights set in the outer hull especially for this operation cut the blackness of the water. Strange fish blinked their eyes and scuttled away from this monster which was invading the deep.
Now Tim was at one of the quartz windows. In spite of their high power, the searchlights were effective for only a few feet. While he watched the gaunt mast of a ship came upward from the depths. They were descending almost on top of the Southern Queen.
A stubby funnel, rising at a crazy angle, was next, and ahead of that Tim thought he could glimpse the battered bridge.
The motion of the S-18 was almost imperceptible now. The divers, watching the descent closely, were giving orders which Earl Bell relayed on to the control room.
The main deck of the Southern Queen, now heavily encrusted with sea growth, came into view and the S-18 slid lower. There was a gentle bump as it touched the bottom.
Commander Ford came forward and took the telephone from Earl. There was a slight jar as the divers opened the outer door of their compartment and stepped outside the hull of the submarine. Pressure inside their own compartment and that outside had been equalized all of the way down and they were ready to seek an opening into the interior of the treasure ship.
Moving slowly and with each carrying a hand torch, they disappeared beyond the outer rim of light.