"Do you want the services of some expert divers, Mr. Driggs?"
asked Dave, turning from a brief chat with Belle Meade.
"Not you boys," retorted the boat builder. "You youngsters have
been fooling enough with the river bottom for one day."
"Then how do you expect to get hold of the canoe, sir?" asked
Tom Reade.
"We'll grapple with tackle," replied Driggs, going toward an equipment
box that stood on the forward end of the scow. "We'll use the
same kind of tackle that we've sometimes dragged the bottom with
when looking for drowned people."
Laura Bentley slivered slightly at his words. Driggs' keen eyes
noted the fact, and thereafter he was careful not to mention drowned
people in her hearing.
The tackle was soon rigged. Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton, who
possessed the keenest interest in things mechanical, aided the
boat builder under his direction.
Back and forth over the spot the scow moved, while the grapples
were frequently shifted and recast.
"Stop the engine," called Driggs. "We've hooked into something!"
Laura turned somewhat pale for a moment; Belle, too, looked uneasy.
The same thought had crossed both girls' minds. What if the
tackle had caught the body of some drowned man?
"We'll shift about here a bit," Driggs proposed, nodding to the
engineer to stand by ready to stop or start the engine on quick
signal.
Before long the grappling hook of another line was caught;
"The two lines are about twelve feet apart," Driggs announced.
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