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CHAPTER XXIII
AN UNDERSEA COLLISION
Under the warm, tropical sun the submarine floated idly on the surface of the calm sea. She had risen from the depths, her hatches had been opened, and now the crew, the owner, and his guests were breathing free air. The men were taking advantage of the period above water to wash out some of their garments, hanging them on improvised lines stretched along the deck. For Tom Swift had said he would remain above the surface all day.
Some slight repairs were necessary to the electric motors, and they could be made only when the craft was on the open sea. This, too, would afford a chance to recharge the batteries and repair one of them.
For the time being the search under the sea for the treasure s.h.i.+p Pandora had been abandoned. But it was not given up entirely. As Tom had announced to Ned, a new theory would be worked out. So far, cruising about in the place where the fillibuster s.h.i.+p was supposed to have gone down had resulted in nothing.
Mr. Damon, who had been below, shaving, came up on deck to see Tom and Ned tossing into the water large pieces of cork taken from spare life preservers. Tom tossed his in from one side of the deck, and Ned from the other. Then, as the eccentric man listened, he heard Tom say:
"I think mine is going to beat yours, Ned!"
"Then you've got another guess coming," declared the young financial man. "Mine's going twice as fast as yours is now, though yours did start off better."
"Bless my beefsteak!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, "what's this, Tom Swift? I thought we came on a treasure-hunting expedition, and here I find you and Ned playing some childish game! I hope you aren't laying any wagers on it!" Mr. Damon did not approve of gambling in any form.
"No, we aren't doing that," laughed Tom, as he dropped another bit of cork into the ocean.
"We are trying to arrive at some valuable scientific facts, Mr. Damon."
"Scientific facts--that childish play?"
"It isn't play," said Tom, turning to remark to Ned: "I think we've settled it. The current has a decided twist to the north."
"Yes," agreed his chum. "You were right, Tom."
"If you don't mind explaining," began Mr. Damon, "I should like to know--"
"We're trying to determine the drift of the ocean currents in this locality," Tom said.
"So we'll know better where to look for the Pandora," added Ned.
"Oh, so you haven't given up the hunt, then?" asked the eccentric man.
"By no means!" exclaimed Tom. "It's this way, Mr. Damon. We went down at as nearly the exact spot where the treasure-s.h.i.+p was sunk as we could determine by means of calculations. She wasn't there, nor could we find her by going around in circles. Then it occurred to me, and to some of the others also, including Ned, that the ocean currents might have s.h.i.+fted the position of the craft after she had sunk. There are powerful currents in the ocean, as you know, the Gulf Stream being one and the j.a.pan Current another. Now there may be smaller ones in these waters that would produce a local effect.
"So Ned and I have been dropping bits of cork of different shapes into the water and watching which way they drifted. Our conclusion is that the currents here have a decided set toward the north."
"And what does that indicate?" asked Mr. Damon.
"That we should have begun our search some distance north of the point where we actually did begin," answered Tom.
"How far north?" the eccentric man wanted to know.
"That's just what we have yet to ascertain," the young inventor replied. "So far our conclusions have been arrived at merely from surface data. Now we've got to go below."
"And play with bits of cork there?" asked Mr. Damon.
"No, we'll have to use something heavier than cork," Tom said. "We'll probably use weights, and see how far they move along the bottom in a given time. But we have established one thing, and I begin to have hopes now that we may locate the Pandora."
The remainder of the day was spent in various ways aboard the submarine, which continued to float idly on the waves.
It was toward evening, when the red, setting sun gave promise of a fair day on the morrow that the submarine's deck lookout approached Tom, and, waiting until he had the attention of the young inventor, reported:
"There is a smudge of smoke dead astern, sir."
"Is there?" exclaimed Tom. "Let me have the gla.s.ses."
He took them from the lookout and made a long and careful study of the slight, black smudge which was low down on the horizon.
"A steamer," decided Tom, "and coming on fast. We'll go below!" he added. "Please make ready," he said to the officer in charge.
"What's up, Tom?" asked Ned, as his chum gathered up the papers on which he had been figuring on an improvised table set under an awning on deck.
"Some craft is coming, and I'd just as soon she wouldn't sight us," was the answer.
"You mean she might interfere with our search for the treasure-s.h.i.+p?"
"Not exactly. But she might want to start a search on her own account, and there's no use of giving our presence away, or letting them guess at what might be right conclusions as to the location of the Pandora."
"But, Tom, no one knows of the wreck! At least, no one is supposed to but our party and--"
"Hardley. Exactly!" exclaimed Tom, as he saw his chum about to utter the name.
"And you think he is coming?"
"I shouldn't be a bit surprised. Anyhow, it's just as easy for us to submerge and let them do their own guessing. I was going down soon, anyhow, and another hour won't make any difference. Here, take a look, if you like."
Ned peered through the gla.s.ses, but his eyes not being trained in sea interpretation, as were Tom's, he could make out nothing but a black smudge, now larger and darker.
"It might be a cloud for all I can tell," he said, as he handed the binoculars back to Tom.
"Well, it's a steamer all right, and she's under forced draft, too, if I'm any judge. We'll go below before she sights us."
"Perhaps she has already," suggested Ned, as the crew began clearing the submarine's deck.
"No, we lie too low in the water for that. Well, now we can start our underwater observations of current trends."
It did not take long, once she started, for the M. N. 1 to go down.
Just as the sun sank below the horizon, and while the smudge of smoke was becoming more distinct, the waves closed over the steel deck of the submarine. Half an hour later she was nearly a quarter of a mile below the surface, resting on the bottom of the sea again.
On this trip Tom did not go to any such depths as he did on his former voyage in the Advance. Not that the reconstructed submarine was not capable of it, for she was even stronger than when first built. But the wreck they were seeking did not lie in so great a depth of water, and there was no need of running useless risks.
"Well," remarked Ned, when they came to a stop, "I don't believe any one will find us here."
"Not an ordinary diver, at any rate," Tom agreed. "And after supper I'm going to have another go at the currents."