* Usually struck at this time so the relieving watch may breakfast first.
"The Japs have been here, and they'll be back," he said curtly. "There's salvage money ahead of everybody, men, so we're going to pitch in and work day and night, watch and watch. The day watches will devote themselves to getting the stuff aboard, because a diver can't remain down very long in this water: all hands will have a chance at going down. The night watches will stow the stuff below and make a clear deck before morning.
"While we're lying here, we'll redistribute the watches. Mr. Leman and Mr. Ericksen will take the port watch, I'll take the starboard watch with Mr. Dennis and Corny. One man from each watch will be set ashore—that high point of rock makes a better lookout perch than the crosstrees—to watch for the approach of any craft whatever. And mark this, men! If you don't report back to the beach when the watches are changed, I'll come ashore and hunt you down with a shotgun! That's all. The starboard watch will keep the deck."
Did the port watch go below? Not yet! Breakfast was a formality, a hurriedly bolted affair; ten minutes later one of the four white seamen was set ashore as lookout, and the Skipper fell to work.
"You'll mind the pumps my watch, my dear," said Pontifex to the Missus. "When I'm down, I'll trust nobody else to watch my air supply. Do you want to go down, Mr. Dennis?"
"You bet," and Dennis laughed. "I'd like nothing better!"
A complete double set of diving apparatus was already awaiting them.
CHAPTER XI
THE ENEMY COMES
The water was cold—cold and clear and biting as ice. To Dennis, inside the rubber suit, it seemed as though he had been plunged bodily into liquid ice. Through the thick glass of the helmet he could see the green translucence all around him, clear and empty and shimmering with the sunlight from above. For himself, as for the other green hands at the work, he knew that a long submersion would be impossible.