“I left my shoes and shirt on the ledge because I couldn’t be burdened with them in swimming. I reasoned too, that if I got through, wet clothes wouldn’t help keep me warm. So I stripped to my trunks.”
“How long was the siphon?” inquired Betty Bache, who had joined the group of intent listeners.
“Long enough,” Bart said grimly. “The first one wasn’t so bad.”
“Then there was more than one?” inquired Ardeth Packett.
“Two of them. I waded at first. The water finally came up to my neck and then over my nose. When I couldn’t walk, I dived.”
“Weren’t you scared to death?” Virginia Cunningham asked with a shiver.
“I sure was,” Bart admitted. “I knew I might find water to the ceiling for an indefinite distance ahead. Anyway, I decided to chance it. I took a great deep breath and plunged through.”
“What happened?” questioned Beverly Chester breathlessly.
“The first barrier was astonishingly easy. I was through it in less than a minute and was able to wade again. My only light was a container of matches carried in the top of my bathing cap. Ahead I could see another siphon.”
“You were reckless to go on,” Kathleen chided.