The Treasure Hunt of the S-18

by Graham M. Dean

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  An Unknown Intruder

  Pat started forward and Tim followed him through the motor room, theengine room back into the control room, and then into the forwardcompartments.

  Just ahead of the control room was a small cubby with a maze ofelectrical devices.

  "You might call this the eyes and ears of the sub," said Pat. "Here arethe listening devices by which we can ascertain how far away a ship is,and the radio equipment. This is a special compartment built for justthis type of submarine."

  "Don't the newer ones have it?" asked Tim.

  "Yes. Even more elaborate than ours and the equipment in them islocated in the main control room."

  Ahead of the radio room was a white-walled compartment which had beenstripped of its former equipment.

  "This used to be crew's quarters, but when Ford got an option on the_S-18_, the bunks and lockers were taken out. Our diving equipment andstores will be kept here."

  They went on, ducking their heads to enter the forward torpedo room. Inthe bulkhead Tim saw the breeches of four powerful tubes. The craneswhich lifted the torpedoes from the racks and into the tubes werefolded back against the wall but the front end of the compartment was amaze of gauges and valve wheels.

  "I don't see how you can remember which valve is which and what all ofthe gauges mean," said Tim.

  "It does take a couple of months to get the hang of all of them,"admitted Pat, "but in a fully manned navy submarine each man is trainedfor his own task. The successful operation depends upon each one doinghis job at just the right time. If someone forgets, then the storymakes the front page and the navy goes hunting for another lostsubmarine."

  Tim felt an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knewthe _S-18_ was going to be undermanned, but then the only diving theyintended to do would be at the actual scene of the salvage operations.

  "This torpedo compartment will be made into a diving room," went onPat. "A special bulkhead will be built to reinforce the regular one anda door cut in the side of the hull through which the diver can walkwhen we settle down on the bottom beside the Southern Queen. If we findthe treasure it can be placed directly in this special room, the divercan climb in after, and up we'll go."

  The description sounded simple enough but Tim had misgivings that theactual operation might be a little more complicated.

  They left the forward torpedo room and started back to the controlroom. In the former crew's quarters, Pat tapped the steel deck.

  "The storage batteries which operate the electric motors are underhere. It's just too bad for us if water gets to them while we're downin the bottom. Then there's chlorine gas and unless we get up in ahurry, the party's over."

  "You're certainly painting a cheerful picture of this trip," said Tim.

  "I'm making it just as bad as I can," grinned Pat, "but you don't seemto scare much."

  "It's a good thing you can't see how fast my pulse is running. Just onemore thing I want to know right now. Where do we eat aboard this tinfish?"

  "A newspaper reporter would think of that," chuckled Pat, "As a matterof fact the galley will be installed in the rear torpedo room. Theentire crew will eat and sleep there and rations won't be anythingfancy."

  A watchman at the shipyard boarded the _S-18_ and informed Tim that Mr.Ford wanted to talk to him by telephone.

  Tim hastened out of the submarine and followed the watchman to hisshanty near the main gate of the big yard.

  "I'm at the office of the Sea King Airplane Company on Lower Broadway,"said Ford. "Come over as soon as possible and we'll make the finaldecision on the type of plane we're going to take with us."

  Tim promised to get across the river as rapidly as possible and ranback to the _S-18_. Shouting down the main hatch, he informed Pat thathe was leaving. Then he hastened outside, flagged a cruising taxi, andsped toward the office of the airplane company.

  The head of the expedition was waiting for him in the main show room,where several seaplanes were on display. He introduced Tim to thecompany's sales manager and they plunged into a discussion of detail.

  "What do you think of this type of plane?" Ford asked Tim, pointing tothe nearest one on the floor.

  "It looks sturdy enough to me," replied the flying reporter. "Whatabout the speed?"

  "It will cruise comfortably at 130 and can be pushed up to around 145,"replied the sales manager. "The wings are hinged and can be folded backalong the fuselage."

  "Which will mean a saving of space, an important factor with us," putin Ford. "Can you give us an actual demonstration?"

  "It's a little late to reach the plant out on Long Island in time fortrial flights this afternoon. Couldn't we arrange it tomorrow morning?"

  Ford agreed and they arranged to meet at the office again at nine thenext day.

  "We'll take that type if it proves up to expectations after Murphy hasmade several test trips," he said.

  "I've a great many things remaining on my list to do for today," saidFord as they left the office, "and I'm a little hesitant about leavingPat alone on the _S-18_ all night. Of course the Laidlaw yard hasplenty of watchmen but you never can tell what Sladek may attempt. I'dfeel a little better if you would take your duffle and go across theriver and spend the night with Pat."

  "I might just as well get used to sleeping on the _S-18_ now as later,"said Tim. "I'll get my things and be over at the yard in less than anhour."

  The flying reporter checked out of the hotel where they had registeredthat morning and stopped at an army goods store where he purchasedthree blankets and two kits of utensils. Then he taxied over toBrooklyn, stopped at a food store to lay in a supply of cold meat,bread, butter, potato chips, a sack of fruit and some small chocolatecakes. His arms were filled when he finally reached the gate of theshipyard and was admitted.

  "You're just in time. I was getting ready to close the gate for thenight," the watchman informed him. "Mr. Ford has given strict ordersabout admitting anyone after six o'clock."

  "Two of us are to stay aboard the _S-18_ tonight to see that nothinghappens," said Tim.

  "There'll be no one getting through this gate," said the watchmanfirmly, but he was an elderly man and Tim surmised that he might enjoyan occasional nap in the darker hours of the night.

  Shouting for Pat to come on deck, Tim threw down the packages of food,the blankets and then his own traveling bag, finally scrambling downthe ladder himself.

  "You look like a land crab when it comes to getting down a laddergracefully," chuckled the red-haired Pat. "Of course, there's just achance you may learn while you're on this trip."

  "You may have the laugh on me when it comes to getting around in asubmarine, but wait until I get you into the air. Believe me I'll showyou a trick or two in an airplane."

  "Which is just what you won't do," countered Pat. "I know when I'm wellenough off and the _S-18_ suits me. No wings, thank you."

  With dusk softening the hard outlines of the shipyard, Tim descendedinto the interior of the _S-18_, where the bright glow of the electricsdispelled the gloom.

  "Ford send you back to keep me company or is he afraid we may havevisitors?" asked Pat as they placed Tim's duffle in the crew's quarters.

  "Both. He isn't going to take any chances on accidents if it can beavoided. The watchman at the main gate told me that strict orders hadbeen issued to admit no one after six o'clock." Pat nodded toward theriver. "They'll come from there if they come. Have you got a gun?" Timpulled a sturdy .38 revolver from his traveling bag.

  Pat whistled. "That's a real popgun. How about a permit to carry it?You don't want to run into trouble in New York."

  From his billfold Tim produced the small card which identified him as amember of the state police of his own state.

  "Say, what are you," asked Pat incredulously, "A reporter or apoliceman?"

  "I'm a reporter first of all, but once or twice I've had to serve as apoliceman," grinned Tim.


  "Well, officer, let's have that grub," said Pat, opening the packagesTim had brought.

  They lowered another bunk and spread the food out on it.

  "Gosh, but this tastes good," Pat said. "I forgot all about gettinganything this noon."

  They were both the possessors of hearty appetites and between them theycleaned up every bit of food Tim had brought aboard.

  Pat leaned back against the steel wall.

  "Anyone could come aboard now and steal the _S-18_. I'm so full of foodI wouldn't be able to move."

  "I feel about the same way," conceded Tim.

  But despite their sluggishness no disaster befell the _S-18_ and aftera time they bestirred themselves to make a final tour of inspection ofthe submarine.

  Across the East river gleamed the millions of lights of Manhattan, andTim, fascinated, stared at the majestic scene. A tramp steamer, outwardbound for some distant port, hooted dismally as it swung down stream.Lights in the boatyard itself were few and far between and there was adistinct feeling of isolation to the flying reporter on the deck of the_S-18_.

  While Tim was on deck, Pat closed all of the doors between the forwardcompartments, then joined Tim in front of the conning tower.

  "I'm not looking for any trouble," he said, "but I've made everythingtight. The only possible entrance will be through the main hatch andI'm going to fix up a bunk and sleep in the control room."

  They went below and rigged makeshift beds on the steel floor below theconning tower. Pat found a trouble light with a long extension cord andhe placed this on the deck outside the main hatch. With the lights offin the control room, it would be impossible for anyone to get down thehatch without being silhouetted in the glow of the electric on the deck.

  "I guess we can go to sleep without much worry now," said Pat, kickingoff his shoes and rolling into his blankets.

  "Good night," said Tim, pulling his own blankets around him. The steeldeck was anything but comfortable but after the flight from Atkinsonand the busy day in New York, Tim soon dropped into a heavy sleep.

  It was sometime after midnight when he awoke with a feeling of alarmgripping him. He looked toward the hatch above. The light was out.Someone was in the control room!