"I guess that's it," agreed the inventor. "That craft," he went on solemnly, "is the grave of a crew of brave men."
"And might have proved the cause of our being doomed to a tomb on the bottom of the lake," struck in Tom. He shook his fist at the sodden wreck as the searchlight illumined her outlines.
The inventor turned to him with a smile.
"Makes you feel mad, doesn't it, Tom?" he asked.
"Well, not mad, exactly. I hardly know how to describe it," faltered Tom.
"How would you like to have revenge on her, to put her out of the way for good?" asked the inventor.
"How do you mean?" asked the lad, rather incredulously.
"I mean that if she should ever come to the surface she is a real menace to navigation. As it is, she almost caused the loss of the Huron. I should like to remove her forever."
An inkling of his meaning dawned on Tom.
"You mean that you want to torpedo her?" he demanded.