CHAPTER VIII.

THE VILLAIN OUTWITTED.

“Oh!” he ejaculated. “Then you didn’t believe me?”

“Of course, you will understand,” said Wade, diplomatically, “that such a story from the lips of a stranger looked a bit large. We must be excused for a bit of incredulity.”

The villain’s face lit up.

“But you believe it now?” he asked.

“It looks more plausible,” admitted Wade. “We are prepared to accept it as true.”

“I am glad you have come to your senses,” growled the villain. “I haven’t any hard feelings against you, though it was pretty hard usage you gave me on board my own vessel.”

“We acted, as we believed, in self-defense.”

“Well, I reckon so. However, we’ll let by-gones be by-gones. In regard to this offer of mine—do you accept it? One-fifth of the gold shall be yours for the recovery of it.”

“Do you reckon that a fair share?” asked Wade, diplomatically.

The villain swore horribly.

“Why is it not?” he cried. “I am sure that you could get no better terms from any one. It will make you all rich enough.”

Wade feigned avarice.

“I think we ought to have half,” he said.

Poole uttered a frightful oath.

“Well, you will never get half!” he cried, “nor nobody else.” Then, after a moment’s thought: “Well, I’ll do a little better. I’ll give you one-fourth.”

Wade took a notebook from his pocket and wrote down all in serious fashion.

“Now,” he said, “for other terms. You are to show us the place, and we are to dive for the gold.”

Poole rubbed his hands.

“Yes, yes!” he said, briskly, “but there is a stipulation.”

“Oh!”

“You must allow me and two of my men to go down with you while the gold is being taken up!”

Wade jotted this down.

“What else?” he asked.

“That’s all. What are you doing?”

“I am making a report to present to Mr. Reade. I will give him these terms and return with an answer as quickly as possible. Have no apprehension. He will be quite likely to accept the terms.”

Poole looked annoyed.

“I thought you came prepared to accept them?” he said.

“No, sir!” replied Wade, decisively. “Mr. Reade is the master of the submarine boat.”

“And you are his envoy?”

“Yes.”

“Tell him to come himself next time. I don’t feel like being trifled with. Be quick as you can about the answer.”

“I will report at once!” replied Wade, with a manner which belied his words. “Have another cigar.”

“No; confound your cigars!”

“Sir!”

“Excuse me, but I am nervous over this situation. Bring me an answer as quick as you can.”

Wade pretended to hurry to the gangway. Then he got into the boat. He had been forty minutes aboard the schooner.

The men bent to their oars and rowed to the gangway of the Diver. Wade turned to them and said:

“You are to wait here for me; do not get impatient.”

Then he went into the pilot-house. Frank and Barney were puffing like beavers, amid a heap of debris.

“How is it?” asked Wade.

“You are a brick!” cried Frank. “There is only one more nut to adjust. What did you do?”

Wade told his story.

Frank was delighted.

“We will send him an answer,” he said. “I will write it.”

He sprung into his private cabin and wrote a hasty note as follows:

“DEAR CAPTAIN POOLE: My friend Wade has brought me your terms. They are hardly liberal enough. However, if I decide to accept them, will let you know at an early day. Very respectfully,

FRANK READE, JR.”

Wade could not help a chuckle.

“How he will swear!” he said. “He will be as mad as a hornet.”

“But he will not be able to injure us,” said Frank, “for, thanks to your skillful diplomacy, the Diver is all right once more.”

Frank went into the gangway and handed the letter to the coxswain.

“This is for your captain,” he said; “deliver it to him immediately.”

“All right, sir.”

The boat shot away. When it was twenty yards distant Frank cried:

“Into the cabin, everybody! We’re going down!”

The order was obeyed. The doors and Windows were closed instantly.

Then Frank touched the tank-valve. There was a sudden quivering of the boat, and down she went like a flash.

Poole, standing on his schooner’s deck, was astounded.

When a few moments later he read the message sent him he was more than furious.

“Curse the luck!” he cried. “What stupidity in me! I ought to have held that fellow as a hostage. They will go and recover the gold themselves now. Up sails, men! Bear away at the tiller there! We must be the first to reach the spot. If the water is not too deep our diving suits will be as good as their boat.”

The Diver went down quickly to the bottom of the sea. No sooner, however, had the sandy bottom come into view than another peril presented itself.

A huge monster shot out of a dark defile.

It was the same giant fish which had attacked the boat once before. Frank saw him coming.

He at once suspected that this was the fellow who had dented the shell of the pilot-house. He saw the risk of another collision.

“Look out!” he shouted. “We may hit that fellow.”

In the stem of the submarine boat was a long steel ram. This was provided with electric communication with the dynamos.

Frank had foreseen just such an exigency.

He knew that if he could only strike the fish with this heavily-charged ram the trouble would be quickly over. The monster would be sure to succumb.

So he turned the boat about as quickly as possible to meet the fish. He partly succeeded.

The cetacean struck the boat just abaft her bow. For a moment the partial shock it received dazed it.

The boat was flung almost upon its side, but as it righted Frank instantly brought it about and drove it forward.

The ram struck the cetacean in the gills. It literally tore these away and the monster turned over dead. It was a signal victory.

“Whew!” exclaimed Wade. “I would not care to meet many of that fellow’s stripe. He is quite a match for the Diver.”

“There are many heavier monsters in the deep sea,” declared Frank. “We may run across a worse tussle yet.”

“I hope not.”

However, the coast was clear once more. The Diver ascended the ragged, rocky hills and passed over what was really a mountain range.

For what Frank reckoned as a distance of twenty miles, the submarine boat kept on thus.

Then the sunken isthmus began to undergo a change.

Rolling land spread out beneath them, and suddenly Wade clutched Frank’s arm.

“Look!” he gasped; “just what I expected.”

“A submarine city!”

“Just so!”

The spectacle presented to the view of the voyagers was a remarkable one. There in the heart of the rolling country was unmistakably the walls and housetops, streets and squares of a city.

But the streets were silent, the windows and doors deserted and kelp and debris clung to all. It was a marvelous spectacle.

What curious reflections might be drawn from this spectacle!

Here was once a thickly-populated center. In these dismal streets a people thronged, here trade flourished and society held sway.

What manner of people the lost inhabitants were could only be imagined. But that they were wellnigh the mark of civilization was certain.

In one fell hour their great mass of human souls had been swept into eternity!

The waters had rushed remorselessly over all, and in the mad vortex life had counted for naught. What tragedies were there enacted upon this spot! What moments of horror preceded the dread event!

Instinctively these thoughts came to all as they gazed upon the sunken city. Perhaps Wade was the most deeply impressed.

The Diver sailed slowly down over the sunken city.

Frank selected a broad square near one of the open gates and allowed the submarine boat to rest upon the bottom.

Then he focused the searchlight upon the entire length of a broad street before them.

“Here we are, Wade,” he said. “Now is your chance for archæological research.”

“Just so,” agreed the scientist. “I judge these people a branch of the old race which built Palenque and other Yucatan cities. I fear we shall find but slight clews to guide us.”

“Then you reckon that time and the action of the salt water has removed everything of value?” asked Frank.

“Everything but the bare walls of the buildings,” replied Wade. “However, we can make a little exploring tour, if you are willing.”

“I shall be glad,” replied Frank. “Barney, bring up the diving-suits.”

“All roight, sor.”

The Celt disappeared in the after-cabin. Very soon he came back with the suits.

There were two of them, and they were of an unusual pattern.

The usual diving-suit, as we all know, is operated by means of an air-pump and life-line, but these suits were the special invention of Frank Reade, Jr.

They consisted simply of a very heavy helmet, with connections with a square box-like case, which was strapped on the back.

This was the chemical generator, which furnished plenty of pure air for the diver for an indefinite period of time.