“You?” The young officer looked at the aged professor admiringly, but without making a reply. All eyes were focused on the dignified old man.
It was Dave who best understood the situation.
He knew the professor had made many a trip to the bottom of the sea in a diving outfit, but that had been years before. Now he was a frail, old man. “The pressure at two hundred feet is terrific,” the boy thought. “And his doctor has warned him—even about going down in the ball! He must not go.”
Still Dave remained silent. He was thinking hard—thinking how even in life’s twilight this splendid old man displayed a glorious courage.
“I must go down.” It was the professor’s voice. “It is my duty. Those are young people with life before them. They must not be allowed to perish.”
Still the young officer did not speak.
“All right, Professor,” Dave said huskily. “But first—give me an hour! I will try something. If I fail—then your turn comes!”
Slowly the professor grasped Dave’s hand.
In a few precise words, Dave outlined his plans. Then he leaped toward the steel ball. With all possible speed he was bolted in, lifted over the rail, and lowered slowly into the ominous, black waters.
Never before had he been down at night. The spectacle that met his eyes as he sank, was surprising almost beyond belief. The whole sub-sea world seemed on fire. It was like being out in a moonless night, surrounded by billions of fireflies.