All watched eagerly for the reappearance of Vixen and Walton, the rival divers.
At last the men were hauled up on the deck of the Raven.
It was seen that Walton was injured and had to be carried to the cabin by some of the sailors.
The rival divers had met only two of the demons of the deep, but an awful conflict had occurred, and Walton had had his left arm nearly torn from the socket and was suffering from the effects of the water which had poured into his diving suit.
"I'll not go down again," announced Vixen. "Not for a thousand dollars a trip."
"What, you don't intend to give up the search already?" cried Lemuel Hankers, in horror.
"I do."
"But you agreed to find the Happy Hour," put in Bart. "You must stick to your agreement."
"It's wuss nor putting your head into a lion's mouth," persisted Cal Vixen. "If you don't believe it, go down yourself."
"I will go down—if you'll go with me," said Bart. He was so anxious to get the Washington fortune that his former timidity was overcome.