"
Tom did not answer. But as he looked out of the observation
windows to see if possible the conformation of the mud bank, the
young inventor whispered to Ned one word. And that word was:
"Yellow!"
"You said it!" was Ned's whispered rejoinder.
Tom Swift arrived at a sudden determination. Once again the
motors were stopped, and the boat gradually assumed an even keel.
"What are you going to try, Tom?" asked Ned.
"I'm going to shove her farther into the mud bank," announced
the young inventor. "I think that's the only way to get her
loose."
"Bless my apple pie, Tom!" cried Mr. Damon, "doesn't that seem
a foolish thing to do?"
"It's the only thing to do, I believe," was the answer. "This
mud is of a peculiar sticky and holding kind. The sub's nose is
in it like a peg in a hole. What I propose to do now is to
enlarge the hole, and then our nose will come loose--I hope."
"But you haven't any right to shove our nose further in!" cried
Mr. Hardley. "I won't allow it! I demand to be put on the
surface! I won't be drowned down here before I get the gold
that's coming to me--the gold and--"
"Now look here!" suddenly cried Tom.
Pages:
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98