“Gollyumption, I hope she stays that way!” responded Jupe, his eyes rolling in his ebony countenance.
The sea was as calm as a mill pond. Far off on the horizon lay the smoke of a steamer. But except for that, the expanse of water before them was as solitary as a desert.
All at once a tremor, a feeling of life ran through the structure of the craft.
The novel propellers had begun their work.
Gracefully as a floating swan the White Shark moved off on her maiden trip.
“So far without a hitch,” breathed Mr. Chadwick, “but will she dive—and if she does, will she come up again?” he added.
Possibly that was the question which each soul on board the newly launched craft was asking himself.
CHAPTER IX.
OFF ON THE STRANGEST CRAFT ON RECORD.
It was not long after the start, that word was sent on deck by means of the speaking tube located near the panel, that it was time to come below. The flag was lowered and one by one those who had lingered on the whale-like back of the diving boat descended.