"Yes, I know, but how you going to get it up?" interrogated Dick. Conservative old Dick! He was figuratively from Missouri, and had to be shown any proposition in cold facts and figures before he would dive in—except when it was an order of duty. Then he was Johnny-on-the-spot with all his heart and soul, wherever duty took him.
"Get wise to yourself," counseled Jay, throwing his arm affectionately about his chum's shoulders. "You know as well as I do that it's possible; that salvagers can wrest a big bunch of that good old mazuma from 'Pop' Neptune.
"You ought to know; you've seen for yourself how it can be done," went on Jay at a rapid rate.
Both boys had, indeed, had sufficient experience under the water to acquaint them with the fundamentals of deep-sea salvage. While serving with the Yankee fleets abroad, particularly in the laying of the North Sea mine wall, they had taken many a dip in diving armor below the surface of the sea. True, it had not been in the exploration of sunken ships or the reclamation of submerged cargoes; but their long, hard hours "down below" while adjusting mine screens and bombs had qualified them as first class divers in the strictest sense of the word.
"Sure, I know; I was only kidding. I just wanted to see what you would say," was Dick's rejoinder. But while he was convinced that nonperishable cargoes could be reclaimed, he was inclined to be skeptical about the raising of sunken ships.
"Well, you just wait, old pal, and see what Uncle Sam, Johnny Bull, and the rest of them do," argued Jay. "They are raising the Hun warships in Scapa Flow right now, and pretty soon you'll see them go after all the cargo ships that lie in shallow water. I'll wager you an apple against a swell feed at the Astor those Germans are out after them already."
"I reckon you are right," put in Dick after a moment's reflection.
"And as for me, I'd like nothing better than to ship with a salvage crew this summer until Brighton opens in the fall." Jay said it with a broad grin.