CHAPTER VIII.

THE CONFESSION FOUND.

But before the controversy could be brought to an issue or a decision a thrilling thing occurred.

A terrific yell escaped Stanhope’s lips.

“Look out!” he screamed, “for your lives, everybody! Take care!”

Frank Reade instantly sprang forward. The explorer was in the pilot-house window.

He gripped a section of the partition, and with one finger pointed ahead down the pathway of electric light.

There was the whale coming like a meteor head on for the Dolphin.

It had evidently been to the extreme end of the passage, and turning, was now making a mad charge for the enemy in its path.

Fury personified was the silver monster, as with wide open jaws it came straight down for the craft.

But Frank quickly pressed the lever and set the engines in motion. It was just the contingency he wished.

He realized that the game was already bagged.

If the whale struck the ram of the Dolphin its fate would be sealed. This was beyond dispute.

On like a meteor came the monster.

There was a brief flash of silver in the glare of light, then a stunning shock.

It seemed as if the Dolphin would go to pieces.

Portable objects went crashing about the cabin.

But when the boat once more became still and all had recovered from the terrific blow, a startling sight was revealed.

The whale had struck the ram head on, and the keen steel projection had literally split the monster to its vitals.

Glancing along the course of the jaw, the ram had cut the whale half in two.

It was as dead as a door post. The famous silver whale was no more.

Perhaps the most excited of the party was Stanhope.

The famous explorer could hardly contain himself.

“Hooray!” he shouted. “We have carried out our project! The game is won!”

“And the silver whale is ours!” rejoined Frank.

“You are right, Frank. Now, the next thing is to investigate its stomach and see if the metal case can be found.”

“It shall be done.”

Preparations were at once made to carry out this plan. The diving suits were donned, and all equipped themselves with sharp knives and pikes.

It was a critical time, for all depended upon the success of this attempt to find the metal ease containing the confession.

Of course, there was only a slight possibility that it had remained intact in the whale’s stomach.

There was the likelihood that other substances had long since corroded and consumed it.

In that case Valentine Tucker must continue to languish for the crime of which he was not guilty.

All that could be done would then have been done. At least the party could console themselves with this thought.

Work was at once begun dissecting the stomach and intestines of the whale. It was no slight task.

It was necessary to proceed with the utmost caution and care. Every little shred, every cell was carefully looked into.

But as the inspection progressed it became more and more certain that the metal case was not among the contents of the stomach.

Some foreign substances were found. A pewter cup, a knife worn dull, and what looked like a marling-spike, but so consumed that it could hardly be identified.

Certainly the metal case was not among the contents of the stomach. It looked as if the theory and the enterprise had signally failed.

The divers sat down for a moment to rest.

They were deeply disappointed.

Conversation was out of the question, for one could not make himself heard except when the helmets were placed close together.

But as they sat there the water current lifted a part of the lining of the whale’s stomach and deposited it across Stanhope’s knee.

He was about to brush it away when something caused him to halt. Instantly he lifted the shred of flesh and membrane and passed his hand over it.

There, grown into the lining, was an object a trifle larger than a man’s hand.

From outward appearance it looked like a tumor growth, but Stanhope’s fingers detected the hard substance underneath.

He knew well enough that it was quite possible for objects to grow into the lining even of the human stomach.

A wild, eager hope seized him.

Instantly he drew the blade of his knife across the membrane. An object slipped out.

It was rusty and corroded, but in the glare of the electric light it was not hard for him to recognize its character at once.

It was the metal case.

Stanhope held it up with insane gestures. Frank, Barney and Pomp saw and understood.

Instantly all started for the cabin of the submarine boat.

They were quickly aboard, and once the diving suits were off Stanhope yelled with glee:

“Hurrah! We have succeeded! Here is what will save the life of Valentine Tucker! It is an act of Providence!”

The corroded case lay upon the cabin table.

Frank looked at it.

“Do you believe this is the particular case?” he asked.

“It is hardly likely that there is any other,” replied the explorer.

“True, but——”

“What?”

“It has been a long time exposed to destructive agents. Perhaps the papers inside are consumed.”

Stanhope had thought of this. There was a light of anxiety in his eyes, but he said:

“We will hope for the best. Let us know our fate.”

The hermetical sealing of the case was yet intact, and rendered doubly so by rust.

It was quite impossible to open it without destroying the case itself. But Stanhope did not hesitate to do this.

He struck the metal a hard blow.

Instantly the case parted. To the delight of all, a crisp, folded paper rolled out.

It was covered with writing, and was as intact as the day it was placed there.

At the bottom of the confession was the name of Duncan Crane, and also that of the witnesses. The evidence was complete.

Stanhope was the most delighted man in the world.

He carefully gathered up the remains of the metal case and the papers and placed them securely away. Then he declared unctuously:

“I am ready for anything. What joy I shall bring to the sorrowing wife and stricken husband!”

“I hardly think their pleasure will be greater than yours,” said Frank, with a laugh.

“Very true,” agreed Stanhope; “this is the happiest achievement of my life, I can tell you.”

The remains of the silver whale were left in the cavern. The Dolphin backed out and into the open sea.

Then Frank touched the lever and she flew up to the surface.

All around was the unbroken expanse of sea.

To the horizon line it extended almost in a dead calm. But as the voyagers went out on deck to enjoy the bracing air, Stanhope cried:

“Sail ho!”

It was easy to locate the sail just below the line.

It was rising rapidly, and they were evidently in the vessel’s course.

What the character of the craft was it was not easy as yet to tell.

But most of the party reckoned that it was the Southampton, until after it had become more plainly visible.

Then it was settled beyond all doubt that it was not the English cutter.

Curiosity impelled all to wish to learn the character of the strange vessel.

So the Dolphin headed toward her.

Every moment the two vessels drew nearer. Then Frank, who had been studying the unknown vessel through a glass, declared:

“It is a brig of the first class and she has not yet sighted us. We are, however, directly in her course.”

“Shall we wait and speak her?” asked Stanhope.

“I think we will.”

“Is it not curious that she has not sighted us yet?”

“I think not. You see, our boat rests so low in the water that she would be easily overlooked.”

“Exactly. I have great curiosity to know what vessel this is, and what her mission is in this out-of-the-way part of the world.”

“We shall soon know.”

Nearer every moment drew the unknown vessel.

And now it was seen that she had sighted the Dolphin.

This was made manifest by a gun fired from her bow.

The Dolphin could not answer save by displaying a flag. This was, however, recognized.

Nearer the two boats drew, and soon the brig was in speaking distance.

It was seen that she floated the American flag.

Her appearance was, however, a mystery, for she did not have the bearing of either a whaler or a trader.

But the mystery was soon solved.

“Ahoy!” came from the brig.

“Ship ahoy!” replied Frank.

“What craft are you?”

“The submarine boat Dolphin, of Readestown, U. S. A.”

“Submarine boat?”

“Yes.”

“Jewhittaker! What kind of a craft may that be?” came back the astonished query. “Not for sailing under the sea?”

“Yes,” replied Frank, “just for that. What ship are you?”

“The ship Belden. Captain Uriah Snow, from New Bedford, U. S. A.”

“I am captain of this boat, the Dolphin, Frank Reade, Jr. I give you my compliments.”

“The same to you. Will you not come aboard?”

“Aye, aye!”

Frank turned to Pomp and Barney and said:

“Get out the pontoon boat. We will pay Captain Uriah a visit.”