CHAPTER XVII

TRAPPED BELOW THE SURFACE

it seemed to Frank that he never would stop sinking. The ocean was like a vast, bottomless grotto of black liquid in a mysterious world a million miles from the one in which he had been accustomed to living.

He flicked on his light and focussed it downward. Suddenly, from the murky depths below him, a huge shadow seemed to float upward from under his feet. The object apparently had no outline, no beginning, and no end-it was simply a monstrous blotch.

Then, almost before he realized it, the older Hardy lad found himself staring into the gaping funnel of the Katawa. There was not an instant to lose. In a twinkling he would be imprisoned within the ship.

With a desperate jerk he twisted the inflation valve on his chest-piece all the way to the right. There was a muffled rush of air, and he could feel its cushioning effect as it filled his suit. An instant later his descent was checked abruptly, not three feet from the yawning mouth of the funnel.

A voice crackled through his radio earphones*.

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146 The Secret Warning

"Hello, Frank! Hello, Frank!" it chanted.

"Golly!" was all the lad could gasp.

"Perry talking. Having any trouble?"

No answer. For the moment Frank was more intent upon avoiding his threatened imprisonment than in anything else. His descent had been checked, but for some reason he did not rise. He gave the valve another tug and another. It would not budge. Suddenly a giant fish swam slowly by, and in its eddy the lad drifted away from the funnel.

"Hello, Frank! Frank!" Perry was much alarmed.

"Hello, Mr. Perry! I'm-all right now. j____»

"What happened! What's the matter?"

"Almost went down the Katawa's funnel. Drifted away from it just in time, but there's something wrong with the inflation valve. I can't make myself rise! I'm just suspended here."

"Did you turn the valve all the way to the right?"

'' Yes.'' Desperation made Frank calm as he worked over the valve handle. He knew instinctively that becoming excited would do more harm than good.

"Keep after it, Frank," came Perry's voice reassuringly. "Sometimes they stick pretty tight."

Suddenly the handle turned. There was another rush of air into the suit and the lad shot

Trapped Below the Surface 147

upward. He tested the valve again and again. It worked smoothly.

"It's all right now!" Frank exclaimed with relief. "Works fine."

"You'd better come up, then," Perry urged. "Don't take any more chances with it."

"It's all right, really, Mr. Perry. I'd rather stay down. I don't see the cameraman anywhere as yet."

He released the air in his suit and dropped to the ocean bottom alongside the great black hulk of the rotting liner.

Suddenly a dome-headed figure stepped into the glare of his light! Chipsley! The cameraman waved his hand with the curious slow-motion effect made necessary by the heavy water-pressure. The two could not talk with each other directly, but conversed through Perry up above.

"I've found Chipsley!" Frank exclaimed.

"So he's just informed us," Perry answered. "How are you getting along?"

"Fine! I think he's taking my picture. If I look as queer in this rig as he does in his, I'm afraid I '11 break his camera!''

The photographer had signalled Frank to turn off his light. The lad watched as the other manipulated his motion picture machine.

"He wants you to walk around," Perry announced

Frank found the sensation curious.

"I feel like a feather in a can of molasses."

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Suddenly the cameraman motioned and turned toward the hulk of the Katawa.

"He says 'thanks and that's all,' " Perry informed Frank.

The Hardy lad snapped on his light and watched Chipsley. The latter paused for a moment, then shot upward, hugging the side of the ship.

"Hey! Come back here!" Frank yelled instinctively, forgetting that the other diver could not hear him.

''What's the matter?" Perry cut in. ''What is that young rascal up to?"

The Hardy boy watched in fascination as the cameraman caught the rail of the Katawa and climbed up on deck.

"Frank! Where's Chipsley?" Perry demanded.

"He's-he's on the liner. On the deck," the lad returned, not certain whether to tell on his companion or not.

He heard an exclamation in his earphones, then silence. Perry no doubt was laying down the law to Chipsley, ordering him above for not heeding his warning.

"Frank!"

"Yes, Perry!"

"John Crux has just sent for me to go ashore, so I '11 have to leave. Chipsley says he's coming off the liner now. Be careful, both of you, and come up soon. I 'm letting Joe handle the radio. So long!"

Trapped Below the Surface 149

Frank watched anxiously for a sign of the cameraman, sweeping his light to and fro throughout the whole length of the ship. Chips-ley did not appear.

"Hello, Frank! This is Joe! Is Chipsley with you ?''

"No. I'm waiting for him now."

"I can't get an answer from him, Frank!"

A pang of alarm shot through the older Hardy lad. Had the reckless photographer fallen through a rotten timber? He did not have to wait long for an answer.

"Frank! Chipsley just contacted me. Says he fell through the deck! Holy catfish! He doesn't know where he is! He-wait!"

There was a long interval of silence. Then Joe cut in again.

"He says his foot is caught under a heavy beam. He can't move it!"

Frank steeled himself for action.

"Hold on, Joe, I'll see if I can find him. I know just about where he climbed onto the deck."

"Golly, Frank, be careful!"

Frank focussed his light up on the rail where Chipsley had disappeared. Then he eased his way along the hull to a point directly underneath that part of the liner's railing.

He twisted the inflation valve on his chest and slowly drifted upward, hugging the ship's side as he had seen Chipsley do. Fifty feet- a hundred feet-he found himself beside the

150 The Secret Warning

railing. With one hand he closed the inflation valve, with the other he caught hold of a crossbar on the rail. He swung his light over the deck, which was covered with sea growths of a thousand varieties. It looked more like a gigantic weed-patch than part of a once luxurious ocean steamer.

"Frank! Are you all right?"

"Yes. I'm hanging to the deck rail. Golly, it's dark around here! Can't see anything but what's right in the path of the light."

"Be careful, Frank!" Joe was becoming more anxious, and with good reason. There was only one chance in a million that his brother might find the foolish cameraman without getting himself in hazardous circumstances.

Suddenly Frank's light came to rest at a door leading into a deck cabin. Could Chipsley have gone through it? It seemed to be the logical destination. The deck was a cluttered mass of seaweed, so there was nothing to be gained by traversing it. The cabin door, on the other hand, was directly opposite the point where Chipsley had climbed over the rail. About thirty feet of deck-space lay between. Frank was certain that the cameraman was somewhere inside the cabin, or below it.

"Joe! Is Chipsley still talking to you?"

"Yes. He says to hurry. He thinks he is fainting. He still can't move his foot. The crew up here say we'll have to amputate ii, probably, if we can find him in time."

Trapped Below the Surface 151

Frank shuddered. Amputate! Desperately he swung his light around the deck again. Not a sign of broken-through planking. Yet it was hard to be certain, with weeds covering all the space.

He set a foot gingerly down on the deck. To his horror it gave way like rotten rubber. Not a chance of even beginning his thirty-foot journey to the cabin.

Then he edged along the rail a few yards, and this time his test was successful. The deck did not yield.

"Joe! Try to find out just where he fell through!"

"I did. He says he isn't sure. Dazed himself as he fell and when he came to he was lying in a jumble of timbers."

Frank paused, still gripping the rail. The ship lay partly on her side, and the deck sloped downward from where he stood at an angle of forty-five degrees. It would be suicidal to let go the rail and trust the deck to hold as he slid down against the cabin. Still, how else------

He suddenly thought of the coiled cable attached to his belt. Of course! "Why didn't I think of that before ? " he muttered to himself, rapidly tying one end of the wire to the rail.

He tested it. The barrier seemed solid enough and the wire could be depended upon. Slowly, inch by inch, he reeled out the cable and eased himself toward the cabin.

Up on the barge the men were frantic. Perry

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and John Crux had gone off hastily and left no word of their destination or when they expected to return.

Grizzled Captain Ted Rankin of the barge crew sat tensely beside Joe in the radio room. At brief intervals the younger Hardy lad yanked off his headphones and conferred with the man.

"Frank's trying to cross the deck to a cabin, Captain," Joe cried, receiving his brother's message.

The old man nodded gravely. He had grown exceedingly fond of the Hardys and Chet, and they of him. His face showed his deep concern.

Joe flung off his headphones. "I've got to go down there! Frank needs help! He can never reach Chipsley alone!"

Chet was standing beside them with a puzzled frown. "Let me go, Captain Rankin!" he pleaded quaveringly. " I '11 go down and help!''

The officer turned away for an instant. Then he gazed at the two boys and shook his head slowly.

"No," he said huskily. "There are two in desperate trouble now. We can't risk any more lives.''

Joe's eyes flashed. "What are we going to do-let them both die!" he shouted angrily, forgetting himself for an instant.

The elderly man laid a hand on the younger Hardy's shoulder.

'' Joe! You know we '11 do everything possi-

Trapped Below the Surface 153

ole. Pete and Jim will go down as soon as they can. But as I told you, they both worked over their limit last night and they can't go down until they've finished their rest period. Otherwise, well, they'll be ruined for diving for the rest of their lives."

The two divers referred to by the Captain had both offered to forego their rest periods and descend again, but Bankin had refused them permission, knowing that the health of both would be permanently impaired if they should do so.

Deep beneath the surface Frank was still easing himself toward the cabin, which seemed farther away at each step. At one time his foot broke through the deck. With a chill of alarm he had waited for the whole patch on which he was standing to give way. Luckily it held.

Suddenly a monstrous shadow blotted out his searchlight beam. In a second it was gone, and the light shone on steadily. He swayed from a strange rush of eddying water about him. Some large fish, no doubt. Just as he prepared to advance another step the misty form swept down upon him once more, only to vanish again.

Frank had read of divers who had been attacked by gigantic creatures of the deep. He wondered if he, too, would be the victim of such a horrible tragedy.

An instant later he was nearly swept from

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his hold on the cable by a powerful eddy of water behind him. Quickly he swung his light backward, then off to one side. With a chill of horror he saw what was happening.

The barge anchor had come loose!

The giant device had been safely lodged in the Katawa's superstructure a few moments before. Now, for some reason or other, Frank had scant opportunity to guess why, it was slowly swinging to and fro in a wide, circular motion. He was in almost the exact center of its fateful orbit.

The young diver watched it, transfixed. Each time it swung the orbit became smaller. There was not the remotest possibility of his escaping, he realized with a shudder. Regardless of which direction he moved, a thousand tons of steel would smash him like a fly before he could get away.

If he should remain where he now was, it would be only a matter of moments before the huge weight would crush him to a pulp on the spot. It was like a hideous nightmare come true.