It was a tense group in the diving room, clustered around Commander Ford. Tersely he relayed the progress of the divers.
“They’re going back along the hull, hunting for an opening. Charlie Gill says the current is strong here but the footing is hard; probably volcanic rock.”
There was a moment of silence. Electric fans kept a constant flow of air.
Commander Ford spoke again. “They’re still moving back. Wait! Russ Graham’s found a hole, probably the one knocked in the hull when the Southern Queen struck the reef. They’re going inside!”
Every word burned itself into Tim’s memory. It took nerve even to go to the bottom of the ocean, but then to get out of a submarine in a diving suit and walk around the ocean floor and climb into the interior of an old hull took more than nerve.
“They’re not far from the ship’s strong room,” went on Commander Ford, each word low but distinct.
Eagerly they waited for the next message from the interior of the Southern Queen. Would the divers be able to get into the strong room? Would the treasure be there? A dozen questions hammered through the mind of every man aboard the S-18.
Roy Gould checked the even flow of air through the air lines. It was the life blood for the men outside. Once that stopped they wouldn’t have a chance.
Commander Ford bent nearer the mouthpiece of the phone, pressed the headset closer to his ears, straining for the first word of the treasure. His hands were shaking slightly.
Then he turned toward them, his voice hoarse with excitement.