"Too risky. You see, ocean currents or some submarine upheaval might shift the big stone so great a distance that we could never find it. Don't forget that to the best of our knowledge the meteorite is the only source of X on earth."
"Ocean Currents Might Shift the Stone."
"Hmm," frowned Mr. Swift. "I used to know an old fellow very well who was in the diving business. Met him when we built the submarine 'Advance'—you boys remember her—but I can't seem to recall his name. Let me see—Ha! I have it! Britten! That's it, John Britten, the best salvage man on the coast!"
"Maybe he's busy too," said Ned, "as all the others seem to be."
"Maybe He's Busy, Too."
"I think not," replied the elderly scientist, "because he's retired. Yet I believe he'll undertake the job if I ask him as I once did him a great favor. His salvaging outfit is in Florida, but he lives on Delaware Bay. I'll phone him at once."
"That's great, Dad!" cried Tom, his face lighting up with renewed hope. "Tell him I'll bring him here by plane tomorrow. We can talk things over and start for Florida from here."
"He'll go," said Mr. Swift a few minutes later, turning away from the telephone with a smile. "Said he'll be tickled to get back in harness."