"There's nothing wrong! We can run anywhere!" he shouted.
Yet there was something of hysteria in his voice. Nor was it long before the others began to feel themselves similarly affected.
It was an eerie feeling that all hands had, running along like this, blind and guessing, in the depths. Pollard was the only one aboard who had ever been below before in a submarine boat. Though the rest had faced the chances coolly enough, they now began to feel the strain.
Even when it is broad daylight on the surface, with the sun shining brightly, the submarine boat, when a few fathoms below, is simply a blinded, groping monster. There is no way of illuming the depths of the ocean. Naval officers have suggested the placing of a powerful electric light at the bow of the submarine craft, but, when tried, it has been found quite useless. The light will not project far enough ahead, through the dense water, to do any more than make the surrounding darkness all the more trying to brave men's nerves.
"Take the wheel, Dave; it will steady you to have something to do," spoke the builder to the inventor. "As soon as you get the wheel, turn the course to due south. Follow it to the line."
Jack Benson slid out of the helmsman's seat, giving way to the inventor, and stepped down the stairway.
At the foot he came upon Eph and Hal, standing there, their faces presenting a strange look.
"How do you find it?" asked Benson.
"Startling," replied Hal Hastings.
"Yet nothing is happening to us," contended Eph Somers, somewhat shaky in his tones. "It's just thinking what might happen—if we were to strike a water-logged old hull of some vessel, say."