DAVE FEARLESS
AFTER A SUNKEN TREASURE

DAVE FEARLESS AFTER A
SUNKEN TREASURE

CHAPTER I

PUNISHING A SNEAK

"A million at the bottom of the sea, father?"

"That is what I said, Dave."

"It is a fortune!"

"There may be more than that. But I am sure of the million."

"And it would belong to us if we found it?"

"Yes, every cent of it."

"But you say the Hankers lay claim to the fortune," went on Dave Fearless, a handsome lad of seventeen, the only son of Amos Fearless, ex-sea captain and marine architect.

"Yes, Lemuel Hankers always did claim the Washington fortune. His mother, you know, was a Washington."

"But so was your father."

"Exactly; and the money was left to our branch of the family, no matter what the Hankers may say to the contrary."

"And it was shipped from China to San Francisco in the steamship Happy Hour."

"Yes, but the Happy Hour belied her name, for she went down in the middle of the Pacific with all on board."

"And the exact location of this wreck?"

"Was not known up to six months ago. Then the Albatross, making some deep-sea fishing for the government, came upon some wreckage which proved conclusively that the Happy Hour had gone down in the exact spot which I have marked on the chart here."

"Do the Hankers know of this locality?"

"I think not. They were in Europe on a pleasure tour when the report came in, and it is very likely that it escaped their notice."

"You must be right, for they are very rich, and if they thought they could add to their fortunes they would fit out an expedition at once and go in search of the sunken treasure."

"Right you are, Dave. But they would have their hands full finding it, for you must remember, the Pacific Ocean at this point is nearly two miles deep."

"Two miles!" Dave Fearless' face fell. "Then we'll never see a single piece of that gold."

"I have been thinking of the matter for several weeks, and I think I have solved the problem of how to get to the wreck, if I can work the plan I have in mind," replied Mr. Fearless, as he began to pace the floor of the modest dining room thoughtfully.

"And what is your plan, father?"

"It is this: Two weeks from to-day our government is going to send another ship to the Pacific, the Swallow, under the command of Captain Paul Broadbeam."

"What, dear old Captain Broadbeam, whom we used to know at Nantucket Light?"

"The same, Dave. He will be in full charge of the expedition, which is to sound the depths of the Pacific, locate any new islands which may be brought to light, and drag the bottom of the ocean for strange fish or marine animals, for the Fish Commission. For this purpose the expedition will take along one of the new Costell diving bells."

"You mean one of those glass cages which they can lower to the bottom of the ocean and then walk around on big steel legs, like an artificial crab?"

"Exactly. They say they work perfectly, and if that is so, we ought to be able to get to the wreck of the Happy Hour and explore it without difficulty."

"We? Shall we go along with Captain Broadbeam?"

"If my application as master diver is accepted," and Amos Fearless smiled faintly.

"Then you've applied for such a position?"

"Yes. I did it as soon as I heard Broadbeam was in charge. I know he will do what he can for me."

"And what of me, father?"

"If I go, you shall go as assistant."

"Hurrah! Then the sunken treasure is as good as ours!"

"Don't be too sure, Dave. Even if we are successful, there is plenty of work cut out for us before we lay our hands on that million dollars, or any part of it. We must—what's that?"

Mr. Amos Fearless broke off short and ran to the window of the cottage in which he and his son lived. "A fellow running down to the beach! He was at the window listening!"

"It's Bart Hankers!" burst from Dave's lips. "Bart Hankers, of all people! He must have heard all we said."

"That's too bad!" Amos Fearless gave a deep sigh. "I wanted to keep this a secret."

"The miserable sneak!" went on Dave, indignantly. "I'm going after him and see what he means by such conduct."

And before his father could stop him, the lad was out of the cottage and running toward the beach at his best speed.

As said before, Dave Fearless was a youth of seventeen, tall, well-built, and handsome. He had been brought up along the coast of Long Island Sound, and had spent two years of his life in a lighthouse not far distant from his present residence in the village of Quanatack.

Following in the footsteps of his father, Dave had taken to the water naturally, and no boy on Long Island could swim better, row better, or handle a sailboat more skillfully than he. In addition to this, Dave had often been with his father when the latter was working at his trade as a master diver, and he knew more about the work of a diver than did many men who followed it for a living.

Father and son lived together by themselves, Mrs. Fearless having died several years before. Mr. Fearless had once been fairly well-to-do, but a fire, and the wild speculations of a brother, now dead also, had robbed him of all of his savings and left him with nothing but his hands to depend upon for a living.

The village in which the Fearlesses lived was not a large one, but it contained some people who were very friendly to the master diver and his son, and also contained some who were just the opposite.

Among the latter were Lemuel Hankers and his eighteen-year-old son Bart. The Hankers were distantly related to the Fearlesses, but as the latter were poor, the relationship was never acknowledged by the former. Indeed, Bart Hankers took particular pains to snub Dave Fearless upon every possible occasion.

Some of the snubbings flashed over Dave's mind as he sped after Bart Hankers, who was running to where he had left a small boat tied up at one of the village docks.

"I'll show him that he is not to play the sneak on us, even if he does snub me," muttered Dave, as he reached the dock, to find Bart just entering the rowboat.

In a minute he was at the stringpiece of the dock.

"Hi, Bart Hankers, I want to talk to you!" he called out.

"What do you want of me, Dave Fearless!" returned the rich youth, sullenly.

"I want to know what you mean by playing sneak around our house."

"Around your house? I haven't been near your house."

"Yes, you have. You just came from there."

"It's untrue. I have been up to Radley's store all the morning."

"I saw you and so did my father. You're a nice sneak, you are, I must declare. If I were you I'd be ashamed of myself."

"See here, if you call me a sneak, I'll punch your head for you, Dave Fearless!" howled Bart, angrily.

"Well, you are a sneak, so there!"

"So you want your head punched, do you?"

"If I do, you're not able to do the job."

"Won't I? I'll show you." And Bart leaped from the rowboat back to the dock.

"You were up under our window listening to the talk between my father and me."

"It isn't so!"

"It's the truth."

"You say another word and I'll thrash you within an inch of your life!" howled Bart, working himself up into a magnificent rage.

"I am not afraid of you," answered Dave, calmly. The fact that Bart was two inches taller than himself and weighed at least fifteen pounds more did not daunt him.

"Will you take back what you said?"

"Instead of taking it back, I repeat what I said—you are a mean sneak, and I want everybody in this village to know it," answered Dave, in a loud voice.

Several boys and a man were fishing near at hand, and now they drew closer to learn what was the cause of the trouble.

The man, who did some work for Mr. Hankers, sided with Bart, but the boys all favored Dave.

"Pitch into him, Dave," piped in one of the smaller lads. "He puts on too many airs, he does!"

"Don't you dare to touch Mr. Hankers," put in the man.

"I will do as I see fit, Hank Shores," retorted Dave. "Don't you interfere here."

"Never mind him, Shores," said Bart, with a sneer. "I can handle him well enough alone, and I'll give him all he wants, too."

"A fight! a fight!" exclaimed several of the boys, and soon a fair-sized crowd collected on the dock, for, in a village, a fight is a great event, to be talked over for many a day afterward.

"What's the trouble?" asked several.

"Dave Fearless and Bart Hankers are going to have it out."

"What started it?"

"Dave says Bart is nothing but a miserable sneak."

"You have got to take back what you said," blustered Bart, squaring off.

"I'll take back nothing," retorted Dave.

He had scarcely spoken when the rich youth struck out and landed lightly on his shoulder.

As quick as lightning Dave returned the blow, landing on Bart's nose with just sufficient force to draw blood.

"Ouow!" howled the rich youth, and staggered back.

"First blood for Dave Fearless!"

"Give him another like that, Dave!"

In a worse rage than ever Bart rushed at Dave again and this time caught him on the chin, and nearly knocked him down.

"There's one for Bart Hankers!"

"He'll down Dave Fearless yet!"

As quickly as he could Dave recovered and rushed at his opponent.

Blows now flew thick and fast, and Dave was hit on the shoulder, on the chest, and on the cheek.

But he returned every blow with interest, and Bart received a crack in the eye which made him see a thousand stars, and then another in the mouth, which loosened two of his teeth.

"Oh!" he groaned, and staggered toward the end of the dock.

"Have you had enough?" demanded Dave.

"No."

Hardly had Bart answered when Dave squared off again. Bart struck out feebly and Dave warded off the blow with ease.

Then Dave's left fist shot out, fairly and squarely, and the rich youth received a blow under the chin which lifted him off his feet and sent him backward with a loud splash into the waters of Long Island Sound.

CHAPTER II

THE HANKERS' MOVE

"Bart's overboard!"

"My! but wasn't that a clever blow!"

"Dave is too many for him, even if Bart is larger."

So the cries ran on as all rushed to the edge of the dock.

Bart Hankers had disappeared, but he soon came up, spluttering and floundering around in a fashion to make many of those present laugh.

The water at the dock was not extra deep, and his head had become covered with black mud from the bottom.

"You—you—rascal!" he cried, when he could speak. "I'll—I'll have you locked up for that!"

"Locked up!" cried several. "What for? It was a fair fight."

"Dave had no right to knock him into the water," put in Hank Shores.

Bart Hankers' rowboat was close at hand and into this the rich boy climbed slowly and painfully, for he was still partly dazed by the crack under the chin.

His wet and muddy appearance made many in the crowd laugh.

"I say, Bart, you look as if you were dressed for the ball!" cried one boy.

"Now's the time to call on your best girl, Bart. You're in good shape for hugging her," added another.

"You fellows shut up!" growled the rich youth, shaking his fist at them. "If you don't I'll make it hot for the lot of you."

"About as hot as you made it for Dave Fearless, eh?" was the reply, and a shout of derision went up.

Then one of the boys began to throw some fish bait at Bart, and in a minute half a dozen youths were at it and Bart was struck in several places.

"Oh, I must get away from here," he muttered and then cried to Hank Shores: "Row me over to Purry's dock, will you, Shores?"

"I will," replied Shores, and leaping into the rowboat, took up the oars. Soon the craft was out of reach of those left behind. But before Bart got out of hearing he heard the village lads give a hurrah for Dave Fearless.

"All right, Dave Fearless," he muttered, under his breath. "You 're on top this time, but I reckon my father and I will win in the long run."

"He played you foul, Bart," said Shores, soothingly. He was little better than a sneak himself.

"He wouldn't have been able to do it only I—er—I sprained my arm at rowing yesterday. That's why I got you to row for me," answered Bart. But what he said about his arm was a falsehood.

Half an hour later Bart Hankers entered his elegant home at the end of the main street of the village and sneaked up to the bathroom, where he washed up and changed his wet clothing for a dry suit. Then he went downstairs and to the library, where his father sat, reading the stock reports in a New York paper.

"Father, the mystery is solved," he said, as he closed the door carefully, that nobody might hear what he had to say but his parent.

Lemuel Hankers, a thin, yellow-skinned man of fifty, looked at his son curiously.

"What mystery, Bart?" he asked.

"The mystery of the missing Washington fortune."

"You don't mean it!" And the man leaped from his chair in astonishment.

"I do mean it."

"What have you learned?"

"I know where the Happy Hour went down."

"Where did you get your information?"

"From the Fearlesses."

"Do they know?"

"They do. Quite by accident I overheard Dave and his father talking."

"Indeed! Tell me the particulars," went on Lemuel Hankers.

Without a blush Bart related all he had overheard while eavesdropping at the window of the Fearless cottage. Hankers senior listened with close attention.

"It is a shame that we should have missed this information when it came in," he muttered. "We might already be on the way to recover the fortune."

"We ought to try and get that chart," said Bart.

"We won't want the chart. I can get the same news from the government that Amos Fearless has got."

"Let us go in search of the sunken treasure, dad. It certainly belongs to us."

"Of course it does, Bart. Yes, if this news is true, I will go after the missing million."

"But you will have to take expert divers along, and all that sort of thing."

"I can do that easily. I own stock in the San Francisco Wrecking Company, and it will not be difficult for me to charter one of their vessels, along with all the latest appliances for raising valuables from the ocean's depths."

"Then wouldn't it be advisable for us to start at once?"

"I must find out the particulars of this matter first."

"How will you do that?"

"The easiest way will be to make a trip to Washington."

"Then you had better go to-night."

"I will," answered Lemuel Hankers.

He was as good as his word, and the next day found him at Washington.

He quickly introduced himself to the proper parties and from them learned as much as Amos Fearless knew concerning the location of the wrecked Happy Hour. That the ship had been exactly located there could be no doubt. But it was also true that the ocean currents were gradually shifting the wreck from one position to another.

"If anything is to be done it must be done soon," he said, upon returning home. "That section of the ocean's bed is subject to earthquakes, and an earthquake might sink the Happy Hour so that no diver could find her again."

"Then why don't you start for San Francisco at once?"

"I will make up my mind inside of the next twenty-four hours," answered Lemuel Hankers.

"Of course, if you go you'll take me along," went on Bart.

"I wasn't thinking of doing so."

"I don't want to stay behind. Dave Fearless is going with his dad."

"But they are both expert divers and will do their own work, while I will have to have our work hired out."

"I don't care. I want to be on hand to see the Fearlesses outwitted."

"Very well then, you shall go," answered Lemuel Hankers.

The next day saw the rich man and his son on their way to San Francisco, to fit out an expedition to hunt for the sunken treasure.

CHAPTER III

A STRANGE HOTEL ADVENTURE

"Father, I have news for you!" cried Dave Fearless, as he rushed into the cottage all out of breath.

"What now, Dave?"

"The Hankers have left Quanatack and gone to San Francisco."

"Impossible!"

"It's true. They took the train for New York, and Sam Dilks overheard Bart ask his father what the tickets to San Francisco would cost."

"That looks bad."

"And that isn't the worst of it. Sam also overheard them talking about the San Francisco Wrecking Company and heard Mr. Hankers say he felt sure he could get the vessel without delay."

"Then they must be after the sunken treasure beyond a doubt, Dave." Amos Fearless gave a slight groan. "They'll get the start of us after all!"

"How about that job for us on the Swallow?"

"I have heard nothing new."

"If I were you I'd send a long letter to Captain Broadbeam and let him know just how we stand."

"I will do it."

The letter was sent that night, and then the Fearlesses waited anxiously for a reply.

Two days later came a telegram from Washington. It was from their old friend the captain and ran as follows:

"Both engaged at salary mentioned in letter. Report here without delay."

"Hurrah! We 're in it after all!" shouted Dave, flinging up his cap, and he danced a jig for joy. "Now for the Pacific Ocean and the missing fortune!"

Father and son had prepared everything for a start from home, and that evening saw them on the way to Washington. They spent the night in New York, and reported at the Capital City at noon the next day.

"Glad to see you," said Captain Broadbeam, shaking both by the hand. "Come over to my hotel and we'll talk matters over." He was a round-faced, jolly old sea-dog, and nobody could help liking him.

At the hotel the captain was let into the secret of the sunken treasure, in which he immediately took a deep interest. When Lemuel Hankers was mentioned he scowled.

"He is my enemy," he said. "He tried to get me out of my position so that some captain friend of his could have the berth. I'd be glad to knock the wind out o' his sails, consarn him!"

"Where is the Swallow now?"

"At San Francisco, all ready to sail."

"And when shall we go West?"

"Day after to-morrow, and you can go along with me."

A long talk followed, during which Amos Fearless asked about a diving bell.

"Yes, we have the very latest pattern on board of the Swallow," answered Captain Broadbeam, "and we shall also take along the very best of diving outfits, deep-sea sounders, and drag-nets—better even than those on the Albatross."

"Then we'll be fixed to go right ahead," said Mr. Fearless. "But we must get ahead of Lemuel Hankers and his son."

"Trust me to do that, Fearless. But when it comes to going down to a wreck as lies two miles under the surface o' the ocean, why, you and Dave will have to do that part o' the job."

"And we will," put in Dave, quickly. "I know it is a gigantic undertaking, but with; the proper outfits, I feel convinced that we will get there sure!" and he shook his head confidently.

In secret Amos Fearless promised Captain Broadbeam twenty-five per cent. of any sum recovered from the wreck, providing the government would allow the officer to accept the amount.

It was not until late that night that the party separated and Dave and his father retired to a room in another part of the hotel.

When they left Captain Broadbeam, a man in a room next to the captain's got up from his knees, for he had been down listening at the keyhole of a door which connected the two apartments.

This fellow was named Pete Rackley, and he was in Lemuel Hankers' employ.

"I'm onto their game right enough," muttered Rackley to himself. "So they are going to outwit my boss? Well, I reckon not."

Before going to bed that night, Pete Rackley wrote a long letter to Lemuel Hankers, telling the rich man of what he had heard.

He felt that he must keep Dave and his father from going West to join the Swallow, no matter what the cost.

So he at once laid a plan to have Dave arrested for supposed pocket-picking.

The next morning he met Dave in the reading room, where he had gone to glance over the newspapers.

Unknown to Dave he approached the lad and dropped into his coat pocket a pocket-book containing ten dollars and a visiting card upon which was written his name, Peter Rackley.

Then he walked out into the hallway to the door of the hotel, stopped suddenly, and gave a cry:

"My pocket-book! It is gone!"

"What's that, sir?" demanded the hotel clerk, who happened to be passing.

"My pocket-book is gone! It must have been stolen from me!"

"Did it have much in it?"

"Ten dollars or more."

"Perhaps you dropped it, sir."

"Hardly. I had it quarter of an hour ago. when I was in the reading room. Ha, I have it! That young man took it from me." And Pete Rackley started back to the reading room.

"What young man?"

"The fellow who brushed up so close to me at the table. There he is!" Rackley ran up to Dave and caught him by the shoulder. "You thief!" he ejaculated. "Give me back my money!"

Of course Dave was taken completely by surprise.

"Your money?" he repeated. "I know nothing of your money."

"You must have it. Sir, will you have him searched?" went on Pete Rackley to the clerk.

"Certainly, he can search me if he wishes," said Dave, promptly. "I am no thief."

A few more words followed, and the clerk began to search Dave. Soon the pocket-book was brought to light, much to Dave's astonishment and dismay.

"Ha! what did I tell you!" ejaculated Pete Rackley. "Call an officer at once. I want this young rascal arrested on the spot!" and he caught hold of Dave again, that the youth might not escape.

CHAPTER IV

AN OCEAN MONSTER

Dave knew not what to say. Here he was accused of a robbery of which he knew absolutely nothing. The very prison doors seemed opening to receive him.

But while he stood there, not knowing what would happen next, an unexpected friend stepped up in the shape of a stranger, who had been reading in a corner.

"Excuse me, but there is something wrong here," said the stranger. "That man is no thief, to my way of thinking."

"What do you know of this?" demanded the hotel clerk.

"A short while ago I saw that man come up behind this young man and slip that pocket-book into his pocket. I thought at the time he was playing some friendly joke, but it seems he was up to something more serious."

At these words Pete Rackley turned deadly pale. He was caught in his own trap, and he knew it.

"It's false!" he began. "I—I——"

"I saw the action, too," put in another stranger. "I thought it very queer."

"We'll have the police investigate this," said the hotel clerk, and told a hallman to call an officer of the law.

This did not suit Pete Rackley at all.

"I—I guess there is some mistake," he stammered, and turning, he ran from the room and from the hotel. Although he had left a trunk behind him, he never came back to claim the property.

"That was a queer thing to do," said one of the strangers to Dave, after the excitement was over. "Is he your enemy?"

"He must be, but he is a stranger to me," answered our hero.

The trip to San Francisco was made without anything special happening, and soon Dave and his father found themselves on board of the Swallow, which lay at her dock taking on the last of her stores for the long trip around the Pacific Ocean.

After a number of inquiries, Amos Fearless learned that Lemuel Hankers had chartered the small steamer Raven, from the Wrecking Company, and had set sail on his treasure quest the day previous.

"Never mind, we'll make up for lost time when once we get started," said Captain Broadbeam. "I fancy the Swallow is a better boat in every way than the Raven."

Two days later the Swallow sailed with Mr. Fearless and Dave on board as master diver and assistant.

The diving outfits on board pleased the master diver very much, and he was likewise greatly interested in the diving bell the ship carried.

"That ought to be just the thing for our work," he said to Dave, "if they can let it down to where the wreck of the Happy Hour rests."

"But two miles is a tremendous distance, father."

"I know it. I have never yet gone down over three hundred feet."

"Perhaps we shall fail."

"We must try a short distance first, Dave. We can't go down those two miles at the start. Captain Broadbeam wishes us to go down to-morrow anyway, to hunt for some strange fish, said to be in these waters, a fish known by the scientific name of Eurypharynx Pelecanoides."

"What a fearful name!" muttered Dave. "Is the fish as bad?"

"Yes, and worse. The monster is said to be all of twenty feet long, with a head larger than a hogshead and a mouth seven feet across. Its body and tail are covered with spines or stickers, and its teeth are like so many large needles."

"Truly an ugly customer to meet," and Dave shuddered.

"I am afraid he'll be an ugly customer to bag—in a net or otherwise."

"Are we to use the diving bell?"

"Yes, we are to try it, but we are likewise to use our diving suits, too—-just to try both outfits," returned the master diver.

The next day the Swallow reached a section of the Pacific where the strange fish described by Amos Fearless was supposed to exist, upon the bottom of the ocean bed, half a mile below the surface.

Diving suits were brought forth, and Mr. Fearless and Dave were not long in preparing to descend.

Then the diving bell was adjusted to a long wire rope and let over the side, and they entered this.

The word was given, and slowly but surely they descended into the cold and dark depths of the mighty Pacific.

At a distance of two hundred feet the bright sunshine overhead began to fade away, and at five hundred feet it was as black as night, that is, some distance away from the diving bell. But around the bell several electric lights in the apparatus made all as bright as day.

Down and down they went, the pressure on the diving bell becoming each second more powerful.

At such a depth no human being could have lived without something to protect him from a weight which was ever ready to crush anything from the outside world.

At last the diving bell rested on the bottom of the ocean, and Amos Fearless sent up the signal to stop lowering.

Then father and son inspected the ocean's bottom with much curiosity.

Here were numerous fish of curious shapes, but none of large size. There were also sea crabs, with sharp claws and protruding reddish eyes.

But no sign of the Eurypharynx Pelecanoides, the wonderful fish, of which they had been sent in search.

"It seems to be safe enough," said Dave to his father, in the sign language of divers. "Let us go outside and look around."

"But not too far away from the diving bell," answered the master diver. "The pressure may make us sick, and then we'll have to get inside again as quickly as possible."

Soon they were ready, and with a fresh supply of air in their helmets, they stepped out upon the slimy, black surface of the ocean's bottom.

At sight of them the small fish thrashed around wildly, and the sea crabs scampered in all directions.

With caution they moved away from the bell to where the bottom appeared to slope downward.

Here there was a large hole, and they wondered what might be at its bottom.

Dave was well in advance, when of a sudden a strange sensation brought him to a halt and made him glance to his left.

A shriek of terror burst from his lips.

CHAPTER V

FROM ONE DANGER INTO ANOTHER

"I am lost!"

Such was the agonizing thought which crossed Dave Fearless' mind when he beheld himself confronted by the fish known as the Eurypharynx Pelecanoides, commonly called the Sea Devil of the Ocean's Bottom.

The monster was all of twenty feet long, with a head closely resembling a black rubber balloon. Its eyes shone like two electric-light globes, while its mouth opened and shut with a strange, clicking sensation which went through the young diver like the piercing of a needle.

Dave's thought was to retreat to the diving bell, but this seemed impossible, for the monstrous fish was only a few yards off and approaching rapidly. It looked as if in another moment all would be over and he would be swallowed alive, like Jonah of old.

A million thoughts rushed through his brain—thoughts of his younger days, of his happy life around the lighthouse—and of how the Hankers might yet triumph over his father and himself. In the meanwhile the monster came closer, and now it emitted from its mouth a horrible green slime, with which to cover its victim before swallowing him, after the manner of its cousin on earth, the boa constrictor.

But at this moment, when the youth seemed surely lost, something happened as quickly as it was unexpected, and which changed the whole course of events.

Through the black waters rushed another fish, long, thin, and exceedingly bony. From the snout of this fish stuck a sword-like spear, fully three feet long, with a point like that of a dart.

This was the Devil's Needle, another monster of the deep, and dreaded by all other monsters, for it is the deadly enemy of everything that crosses its path.

There was a strange, hissing sound, a thrust, and the sword-like spear was thrust into the side of the Eurypharynx Pelecanoides.

It was like sticking into an inflated bladder.

The water was at once dyed crimson and the mighty ocean monster swept back and then began to thrash around wildly, sending mud and sand, slime and blood, flying in all directions.

As quickly as it had appeared, the Devil's Needle now disappeared.

Too faint to stand, Dave sank back on the ocean bottom.

But his father was close at hand, and with rare presence of mind he caught up his son and carried him to the diving bell.

In another moment both were inside of the machine and had the door bolted.

They were now, as they thought, safe from harm, and Amos Fearless lost no time in turning the electric light of the diving bell upon the Sea Devil of the Ocean's Bottom.

It was still thrashing around in a circle, but gradually its struggles became fainter, and at last it lay quiet.

"He's done for," said the parent, in the divers' sign language. "I will fasten him to the bottom of the bell and then signal them on the ship to haul up."

"Be careful," cautioned Dave. "That other fish may serve you as he just served that horrible creature."

"We will move the diving bell close to the dead creature," answered Amos Fearless.

This was done without much difficulty, by means of a set of levers which connected with the artificial steel claws of the diving bell.

Then Amos Fearless went forth once more, taking with him a short chain, which he began to fasten around the slimy and sticky body of the dead Sea Devil.

The job was a nasty one, but this could not be helped, and therefore he made the best of it.

He had just finished the work when Dave saw the Devil's Needle again approaching.

So far the fish had not seen Mr. Fearless, but now it spotted him and made a dart forward as if to thrust the old diver through and through with that bony sword.

Dave's heart leaped into his throat, for he imagined nothing could save his father from death.

But then came the thought of moving the diving bell into the fish's path.

He grabbed two of the levers and pushed them down, violently.

Acting under the impetus thus given, the diving bell made a stride forward, directly in the path of the Devil's Needle.

Crash!

Full against the steel frame of the bell came the sword-like spear of the fish.

Another crack followed, as the spear was broken off close to the creature's snout.

The great shock stunned the Devil's Needle and it turned over on its side and sank slowly to the ocean's bottom.

Realizing that something was wrong, Amos Fearless turned, just in time to witness the breaking off of the bony spear.

He started for the diving bell, then of a sudden changed his plan of action.

One of the diving bell's steel claws lay close to the Devil's Needle, and this he raised up and placed over the monster.

Dave, inside of the bell, understood, made the lever work, and immediately the claw fastened itself around the body of the half-stunned fish.

Then Amos Fearless picked up the broken-off sword spear and re-entered the bell.

In a moment more the signal was given to rise, and slowly the diving bell went up to the surface of the ocean, dragging the bodies of the two deep-sea monsters with it.

"A glorious find!" cried Captain Broadbeam, when the two monsters were hoisted on board of the Swallow.

"Yes, but we don't want to make another such find under the same circumstances," answered Amos Fearless. And then he related the particulars of the adventure on the bottom of the ocean.

There were two scientists on board of the ship and they went to work at once to prepare the bodies of the two fish which had been caught.

"That sword spear can be fastened on again," said one of the learned gentlemen. "And then the specimen will be practically perfect."

"Folks at home ought to see them alive," said Dave. "I never saw such a horrible sight in my life!"

"These fish could not live in ordinary water," was the answer. "See, the breathing apparatus on each is already bursting. They can only live at a depth of half a mile or more. If one tried to reach the surface by swimming upward, it would only be committing suicide."

"I don't quite understand the reason for that, sir."

"It is simple, my lad. You know the air around us presses us on every inch of our bodies, and we are built to resist that pressure. An ordinary fish is built to resist the pressure of ordinary water. Such a fish as the Sea Devil is built to resist the pressure of hundreds of pounds to the square inch, and consequently when it is brought up, the pressure inside is too great for the pressure outside, and that destroys the breathing power of the marine animal," concluded the learned man.

By evening the Swallow was on her way westward once more and the scientific men had the specimens almost ready to be placed in huge tanks of alcohol.

So far, nothing had been seen or heard of the Raven, but a strict watch was kept each day for the Hankers' vessel.

But one more stop was to be made, at the island of San Murio, and then the Swallow was to proceed directly for the locality where the treasure ship Happy Hour had gone down.

Day after day passed and nothing of importance occurred.

One afternoon there was some slight break in the machinery and the ship had to come to a stop for a couple of hours while repairs were being made.

It was a hot day and several of the sailors readily obtained permission to go in swimming.

"I think I will join them," said Dave to his father. "The water looks cool and tempting."

"All right, Dave," was the answer. "But take care you don't get a cramp."

"If I do, you can bet I'll yell for help," laughed the young diver.

He was soon in the water and sporting around to his heart's content.

The sailors had allowed one of the small boats to drift astern, and Dave swam to this and showed several of them how to make deep dives and long stretches under the ocean's surface.

The party were in the midst of having a lot of fun when a thrilling cry came from the ship.

"A shark! A shark! Beware of the shark!"

All gazed in the direction pointed out, and saw a huge shark approaching rapidly, as if prepared to devour one or another of them!

CHAPTER VI

STRUCK BY LIGHTNING

"We will be devoured!"

"Swim for the ship, boys!"

"See, he is coming this way!"

"Save me, somebody! Save me!"

Such were some of the cries which rang out as the sailors swam, terror-stricken, in one direction or another.

In the meantime the shark came on rapidly. He was a big creature, with a cruel-looking mouth and teeth that were equally ugly.

At first he turned toward one of the sailors, who was swimming for the ship.

But a rope was thrown to the tar, and this he grasped and was hauled on board with all rapidity.

Then the shark turned for another of the sailors.

But this fellow was making for the small boat, and soon he was on board and safe for the time being.

Then the shark turned swiftly and came for Dave.

The youth dove at once, remembering that a shark can attack under water only with difficulty.

But the boy could not remain under the surface forever, and at last he had to come up, this time somewhat closer to the Swallow.

But the shark saw him and turned again to attack the young diver.

It was a critical moment, and Dave was about to give himself up for lost when a shot rang out, followed by another.

Amos Fearless had been in the cabin when the shout of "Shark!" was raised.

Knowing at once the peril of the situation, he had caught a gun from the cabin wall and lost no time in hurrying to the deck.

The shark was still ten feet away from Dave when Mr. Fearless fired.

The first bullet struck the monster in the side, doing little damage.

But the shark turned his head to learn what had hit him and in a twinkle Amos Fearless discharged the weapon a second time.

This time the bullet struck the shark squarely in the eye and entered the marine creature's brain.

Up leaped the shark, clear above the water, to fall with a shock that sounded like the report of a cannon.

The water flew in all directions, drenching all who stood at the rail of the Swallow taking in the appalling situation.

In its death agonies the shark hurled itself against the ship, lifting its tail clear to the rail and wrecking a portion of the woodwork. Then it turned and dove for the small boat. The sailor on board had just time enough to leap out and dive, when the marine creature struck it with all force, smashing the rowboat to atoms.

But that was the last act of the shark. In a minute more it was dead, and floated on the bosom of the ocean close to the ship.

A line was thrown to Dave and the sailors, and all were hauled on board.

"My boy! My boy!" murmured Amos Fearless. "What a narrow escape for you!"

"You saved my life, father!" replied Dave. He could scarcely speak, but the grip he gave his parent's hand meant a good deal.

Some of the sailors wanted to bring the shark's remains on board, to get the teeth, and Captain Broadbeam consented, and later on, the scientists on the Swallow prepared the skeleton for mounting, to be sent to the Smithsonian Institution at Washington.

It remained very warm, and Captain Broadbeam looked constantly for a storm.

"Almost all ships catch 'em in these latitudes," he remarked to Dave. "This may be a long time a-coming, but it will pay up for lost time when it does come."

In this surmise Captain Broadbeam was correct.

Two days later, while the sun was shining brightly, there appeared a cloud to the south-west, scarcely bigger than a man's hand.

But the cloud grew larger with great rapidity, until it covered half the sky, and the sunlight was shut out and soon all became as dark, almost, as night. The wind began to blow and soon the waves were running higher and higher.

"We must run into the teeth of the storm," said the captain, and gave orders to change the course.

Presently it began to rain, and then followed lightning and thunder which were almost incessant.

"Never saw anything to match it," declared Dave, as he put on his oilskins and joined his father on the stern deck. "This beats those we had off Long Island all to pieces!"

"Right you are, Dave," answered Amos Fearless. "Take good care that you are not swept overboard."

The storm increased in violence until the Swallow was heaving and pitching as never before. At one moment she would be riding on the top of a very mountain of water, at the next she would be going down and down into a tremendous hollow that looked as if it would swallow up the stanch ship forever.

Captain Broadbeam surveyed the storm with anxiety, for he realized that it was unusually severe, and threatened the very existence of his craft.

The lightning played all around the metalwork of the ship, and the roar of the thunder was deafening.

"You had better go below," said the captain to Dave and his father. "You can do nothing on deck."

"Yes, we will go below," answered Amos Fearless. "Come, my son," and he led the way down into the cabin.

All of the ports and doors had been closed, and the air was stifling in the shut-up apartment, but of this there was no use to complain.

All crockery, glassware, and other loose objects had long since been secured, or they would have been flung in every direction.

Dave sat down in a chair screwed to the floor, and did his best to keep his seat.

At one moment he felt like pitching forward, at the next he seemed about to turn a back somersault.

The electric light burned dimly, for the electricity in the air had affected the circuit.

"We can be thankful when we are out of this," observed Mr. Fearless, as he, too, clung to a chair. "I never dreamed it could blow so hard and keep it up. In our eastern storms there is generally a lull every few minutes."

"I wonder if the Raven is in this, father?"

"There is no telling. This storm-center may be but a few miles in diameter."

"I am almost tempted to wish the Raven at the bottom of the ocean."

"That wouldn't be right, Dave."

"I know. But supposing they get ahead of us and the Hankers scoop in the Washington fortune?"

"Then we will have to pocket our loss and make the best of it."

"But our claim is better than theirs."

"Morally, yes. But you must remember that legally the fortune will belong to whoever finds it, for it was abandoned at sea many years ago."

"I suppose that is so."

"For my part, Dave, I believe that neither of us will have an easy job to obtain the fortune. It is going to be a great task to even reach the sunken wreck."

"Oh, I know that. But the diving bell will help us."

"It will help a great deal. But you must remember the wreck may be turned over, or buried almost out of sight in the mud of the ocean bottom. In that case we'll have a lot of work to do before any of us can get into the ship and even locate the lost treasure."

"Never mind, father, the amount to be gained will be well worth all the trouble we will take to gain it."

"To be sure, for such a vast sum isn't picked up more than once in a lifetime, even at the best. We can be certain—Heavens! what's that?"

Amos Fearless broke off short, and with good reason.

A fearful shock had come, as a bolt of lightning struck the forward works of the Swallow.

Then followed a strange hissing as the lightning played over the electric wires of the ship.

A blinding flash entered the cabin, followed by a crack as of a pistol, and Dave, half stunned, saw his father pitch forward across the table like one dead!

CHAPTER VII

"I CANNOT TALK!"

"Father! Tell me that you are alive! That you are not dead!"

Such was the agonizing cry which issued from Dave's lips as he gazed upon his parent.

Amos Fearless' face was like chalk, his eyes were set, and he certainly looked as if the breath of life had gone from him forever.

The Swallow was rolling and pitching so fearfully that for the time being the young man could do but little.

Yet he raised a cry which quickly brought the cabin boy to his side.

"What's up?" asked the boy, and then, seeing the stilled form, he continued: "Is he dead?"

"I—I hope not. But send Doctor Barrell here at once."

Doctor Barrell was one of the scientists attached to the expedition. He was a learned man, and Dave felt certain that if anything could be done for his parent, Doctor Barrell could do it.

The cabin boy went off with difficulty, and it was fully ten minutes before he returned with the medical man.

In the meantime, Dave laid his parent on the floor.

By placing his ear to his parent's breast, he found that his father still breathed faintly.

He was just pouring water over the sufferer's face when Doctor Barrell came in.

"What is the trouble?" he asked. "Has he had a tumble? I do not wonder; I have tumbled twice myself."

"No, he has been struck by lightning, doctor. Please do all you can for him."

"Struck by lightning! In here? How?"

"The lightning entered on the electric-light wire and he got the full force of the shock. I was partly stunned myself."

"I don't wonder. You can thank your stars that both of you are not dead."

"But my father?"

Before replying to this query, Doctor Barrell proceeded to make a thorough examination.

In the midst of this, Amos Fearless opened his eyes and stared around him, feebly.

But he could not move his tongue.

"He will live," said the doctor, slowly. "But——"

"But what, sir?"

"He may not be able to—that is, he has had a very heavy shock."

"Yes, yes! But what will he not be able to do?" questioned Dave, quickly.

"Perhaps I had better not answer that question just yet, David. There is no use of alarming you," and the physician turned away to prepare some medicines for the sufferer.

The night to follow was an anxious one to Dave.

Despite the storm, which did not let up for an instant, he remained constantly by his parent's side.

It was daybreak before Amos Fearless was pronounced out of danger.

He still lay in a semi-dazed condition, but his heart-beats were growing stronger every hour.

"In a few days he will probably be able to be around," said the doctor, and then he turned away to hide his troubled looks from Dave.

The youth saw the action and was more worried than ever.

As soon as the storm had abated and something could be cooked, he had a bowl of nourishment made for his father.

The sufferer swallowed a few spoonfuls, and that was all, and even that little went down with difficulty.

"Do you feel better, father?" he asked, soothingly.

Slowly Amos Fearless nodded. His lips moved slightly, but no intelligible sound came from them.

"Don't try to talk," went on the boy. "Take it easy and you will be yourself in a few days."

Again Mr. Fearless nodded, and then fell back, to doze off again.

The next day he was strong enough to sit up. The storm was now over and the Swallow was proceeding on her way to the island at which she was to stop.

"You are better now, surely," said Dave, speaking as cheerfully as he could.

For answer, Amos Fearless pointed to his mouth and then made a motion as if writing on paper.

A sudden horror seized Dave, causing a cold chill to run down his backbone.

"What is it?" he cried. "Oh, father, can't you speak?"

Again the old diver made a motion as if writing, and Dave hurriedly brought him a pencil and a writing pad.

Quickly Amos Fearless set down the following:

"My tongue is paralyzed and I cannot talk."

As Dave read the words, his very heart seemed to stop beating.

His father had become a mute!

The shock was an awful one.

He turned to the doctor, who had just come in.

"See what my father has written!" he cried. "Oh, doctor, cannot something be done?"

"It is what I feared," replied Doctor Barrell, gravely. "I have known of such cases before. I had such a case to treat in Richmond, about six years ago."

"And the sufferer—does he talk now?" was Dave's eager question.

Doctor Barrell shook his head, slowly.

"I am sorry to say he does not, although in every other respect he is a perfectly healthy man."

"But my father—cannot you give me some hope?"

"Let us hope for the best, David."

"You will do all you can for him?"

"To be sure I will."

The day was a perfect one, but Dave was utterly downcast and refused to be comforted.

The thought that his parent might remain a mute forever almost unnerved him.

"I'd rather lose the sunken treasure," he groaned to himself.

At nightfall the Swallow came in sight of the island of San Murio, and dropped anchor in a little bay surrounded by palms and other tropical trees.

The scene was a beautiful one, and had Dave's mind been free from care he would have enjoyed it thoroughly.

Amos Fearless was brought on deck and made comfortable in a steamer chair.

He was gaining strength rapidly, and the doctor expected the old diver to be around again in a week or ten days.

But he could not use his tongue for talking purposes, although he had little trouble in swallowing food.

Early the next morning some of the sailors from the Swallow were sent ashore for water.

"I wouldn't mind going," said Dave, in reply to a question from Captain Broadbeam. "But I hate to leave father."

Amos Fearless overheard this and at once wrote on a pad:

"Go, Dave, and have a good time. I'll be all right. This will be your last chance to stretch your legs on shore for many weeks to come."

So the young diver went ashore with the men, and while the sailors filled their water casks, Dave and a young engineer of the ship, named Bob Vilett, went off on a hunt, taking with them a shotgun and a rifle.

They had heard that numerous wild goats lived upon the island of San Murio, and thought to bag several of these by way of diversion.

"And who knows but what we'll bring down something larger, too!" said Bob Vilett, who was in his way quite a sportsman.

The Swallow was to remain at her anchorage until the next morning, so the pair had the whole day before them. Dave carried a pouch full of food, and Bob a good-sized water bottle, so that they were well provided, even if they did not bring down anything worth eating.

"Take good care of yourselves," said Captain Broadbeam, on parting with them. "Don't run into danger."

"We'll be careful," answered Dave, and off the pair set, never dreaming of the strange adventure and the grave peril in store for them.