“This torpedo compartment will be made into a diving room,” went on Pat. “A special bulkhead will be built to reinforce the regular one and a door cut in the side of the hull through which the diver can walk when we settle down on the bottom beside the Southern Queen. If we find the treasure it can be placed directly in this special room, the diver can climb in after, and up we’ll go.”
The description sounded simple enough but Tim had misgivings that the actual operation might be a little more complicated.
They left the forward torpedo room and started back to the control room. In the former crew’s quarters, Pat tapped the steel deck.
“The storage batteries which operate the electric motors are under here. It’s just too bad for us if water gets to them while we’re down in the bottom. Then there’s chlorine gas and unless we get up in a hurry, the party’s over.”
“You’re certainly painting a cheerful picture of this trip,” said Tim.
“I’m making it just as bad as I can,” grinned Pat, “but you don’t seem to scare much.”
“It’s a good thing you can’t see how fast my pulse is running. Just one more thing I want to know right now. Where do we eat aboard this tin fish?”
“A newspaper reporter would think of that,” chuckled Pat, “As a matter of fact the galley will be installed in the rear torpedo room. The entire crew will eat and sleep there and rations won’t be anything fancy.”
A watchman at the shipyard boarded the S-18 and informed Tim that Mr. Ford wanted to talk to him by telephone.
Tim hastened out of the submarine and followed the watchman to his shanty near the main gate of the big yard.