"It won't be risking it," protested Tom; "at any rate, none of us can be worse off than we are here. As for the danger, it's no more dangerous than taking a dive off a springboard, only, in this case, the process is reversed. I shall go up, instead of down."
The upshot of it was that Tom had his way. He kicked off his shoes and all his garments but his underclothes. Thus attired, he was ready for his great attempt.
"But how on earth are you going to get back on board again?" exclaimed the professor, just as all was ready.
Oddly enough, none of them had thought of this, and, for a moment, the objection threw cold water on their hopes. But it seemed that Tom had figured this out, too. But he was not quite ready to announce it.
"Friends, will you trust me for getting in again, if only I can rescue Mr. Ironsides?" he said simply and without bravado.
"You bet we will, lad," quoth old Sam heartily. "A lad with a figure-head like you on his bows ought to be able to carry anything through."
Tom, the professor and Jeff then descended to the torpedo-room, while old Sam stood ready at the lever, which, at the signal from below, was to be so manipulated as to throw open the outer end of the tube.
"Good-by, and good luck," said the professor, with a warm clasp of the hand, as the inner end of the tube was opened and Tom crept into its narrow confines.
"It's so-long,—not good-by," laughed the lad lightly. "All ready, now, professor. Close the inner door and give the signal as soon as you like."
The metal fastenings closed behind Tom with a clash. He lay in total darkness within the tube, which was just large enough to permit him to lie outstretched at full length.