"ALL right, boys; now for the Nautilus."
It was the voice of Captain Austin, hailing the Brighton boys and their chum Larry Seymour. The three youths, with Fismes at their backs, had been sitting on a forward promenade as the Jules Verne worked her way through the shipping that lined the Bridgeford harbor entrance. By now the new diving ship had escaped the confines of the harbor and was out part way between the dimly distant shores of Long Island and the state of Connecticut. Occasionally a train on the New Haven flitted along the far shore line. A passenger steamship from New York to Boston via the Sound had but passed.
"Here's where you get your first peep at the Nautilus," said Captain Austin, as the boys climbed down the companionway to the main deck. Superintendent Brown nodded to the three youths and then in turn introduced them to a party of gentlemen composed of officials of the Bridgeford Company and others who had been interested in the formation of a syndicate to back the new diving ventures. Members of the party had heard of the boys' war record, and also of their work on the Dominion, and on the U-boat off Cape May. The lads found themselves the objects of much attention.
Captain Austin confided the information that this first trip of the Jules Verne was to acquaint all hands around with the operation of the apparatus. In other words, it was to be a demonstration that would point out the feasibilities and practical virtues of the new plan. He told them that his company still held the assignment for the recovery of the gold from the old Dominion, but reclaiming the gold bullion was a man-size job and they had decided to use the Jules Verne for it if the practical tests turned out satisfactorily.
"You boys come along now," sang out Captain Austin as he climbed into a huge hatch standing above deck and lowered away into the depths below. Without further ceremony the boys followed suit, Jay going first, followed by Dick and Larry. Fismes had to stay behind, but barked furiously to manifest his displeasure at being deserted.
Lowering away from handrail to handrail down the wide hatch, "Cap" Austin arrived finally at the bottom of the opening, closely pursued by the others.
"Low bridge now, fellows," he cautioned.
And low bridge it was as the party entered the access tube. Like an oblique ladder leading downward the tube stretched away into the sea. The steel piping was less than four feet in diameter, and the only way to negotiate it was to duck down almost on all fours and make your way along laboriously like a telephone repairman in a conduit. Electric lights were stationed at intervals along the way to light up the submarine tunnel.
"Keep your head down, Fritzie boy, or you'll get an awful bump on the cranium," cautioned the ship's captain.