And, one by one, they went down through the dark water and came up on the surface of the pool. By this time Mrs. Tully was on her feet and standing by the edge of the tank.
“If I thought this was one of your tricks, Dick Forrest,” she began.
But Dick, paying no attention, acting preternaturally calmly, was directing the men loudly enough for her to hear.
“We’ve got to make this systematic, fellows. You, Bert, and you, Evan, join with me. We start at this end, five feet apart, and search the bottom across. Then move along and repeat it back.”
“Don’t exert yourselves, gentlemen,” Mrs. Tully called, beginning to laugh. “As for you, Dick, you come right out. I want to box your ears.”
“Take care of her, you girls,” Dick shouted. “She’s got hysterics.”
“I haven’t, but I will have,” she laughed.
“But damn it all, madam, this is no laughing matter!” Captain Lester spluttered breathlessly, as he prepared for another trip to explore the bottom.
“Are you on, Aunt Martha, really and truly on?” Dick asked, after the valiant mariner had gone down.
Mrs. Tully nodded. “But keep it up, Dick, you’ve got one dupe. Elsie Coghlan’s mother told me about it in Honolulu last year.”