"Wal, I'm keepin' a net handy to drag you out, boss, just in case."
Tom chuckled and fitted the mask over his face, then made a clean dive
into the tank. For the next ten minutes the girls and Chow watched
wide-eyed as he swam, walked around, and went through vigorous exercises
at the bottom of the tank without once coming up for air.
"Whee!" Sandy exclaimed when Tom finally climbed out. "Make me one, so I
can take up skin diving!"
"It's wonderful!" Phyl added admiringly.
Tom took off his mask. "I'm pretty pleased with it myself," he admitted,
grinning.
The girls stayed at Enterprises for lunch. Then the group, accompanied
by Doc Simpson, flew to Fearing Island so Tom could test his invention
in deep water. Boarding a small motor launch, with Doc at the helm, they
cruised out to a suitable depth and dropped anchor.
"Don't become too confident, Tom," Doc warned. "I'll drop a signal line
over the side in case of emergency."
Tom buckled on his equipment belt and adjusted the face mask. Then he
held up crossed fingers and back-flipped over the gunwale into the
water. Chow, Doc, and the girls watched his plummeting figure fade from
view.
Tom, an expert skin diver, had never before felt such a sense of ease
and freedom under water. He was moving, light and self-contained, in a
green, magical world.
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