"It must have been mighty unpleasant," volunteered Tom.
"It was, I can assure you. But then I had the pleasure of feeling that my boat had really dived, whether or not she would come up again," said Mr. Ironsides, in as matter-of-fact a tone as could be imagined.
"Queer sort of pleasure," thought Tom, glancing at the young inventor curiously.
"I think it's the—the loneliness under the water that impresses one," he said aloud, looking out of the conning tower window. Ahead lay a black void. It was the same all about them. The Huron was encompassed by solid walls of water. It was a weird, uncanny sensation, and all of the party seemed to fall under its spell.
"Ready!" cried the inventor sharply, pulling another lever.
It was as well he had uttered the warning, for at that instant the prow of the Huron inclined upward sharply. The same swishing sound that had filled the submarine when they sank made itself noticed.
"It is the compressed air forcing the water out of the submergence tanks," explained Mr. Ironsides. "What you heard when we sank was the noise of their being filled by an emergency device, especially designed for a quick dive."
"Which, in that case, was necessary," remarked Tom somewhat grimly.
All at once, while the submarine was still tilted sharply on her upward course to the surface of the lake, a bell above Mr. Ironsides' head tinkled sharply.
Coming, as it did, in the midst of their acute mental tension, it jangled Tom's nerves sharply.