A chest, rotted and burst open scattered its riches lavishly, carpeting the dingy floor with coins and gems. For there were jewels too, although the gold predominated—a handful of diamonds, an emerald, a ruby—.
Never would Phil forget the joy, the triumph of that moment. This treasure, theirs, for the taking!
There were other chests but they were tight-bound like the rest and Phil could only surmise the nature of their contents. If, as it was reasonable to suppose, they contained treasure similar to that which the open chest disgorged, there was indeed a fortune worthy of a king.
So lost was he in the wonder of his discovery that Phil lost all count of time or place. He was brought rudely to a realization of the present by a sharp tug at the line. There came another tug and another a signal which told Phil that, for some reason or other, his friends thought it best for him to return to the surface.
The fellows! He had almost forgotten them in his excitement. Wait till he had told them what he had found. Just wait!
Hastily he gathered up a few of the coins and a gem or two, slipped them into the small black bag he had brought for the purpose and made his way back through the debris-filled hull, careful to keep the line free.
After two or three attempts he succeeded in swinging himself to the deck—or what was left of it—then dropped to the sand of the ocean bed.
Making sure once more that his line was free he tugged mightily as a signal that he was ready for the ascent.
Once more numberless dead fish surrounded him but now they had no terrors for him. He was madly exultant. He had found the treasure! What were a few dead fish against that fact?
Then he had reached the surface. Through the “eyes” of his suit he saw the anxious faces of his comrades. He exulted when he thought how in a moment their expressions would change——.