"It's no use, Pop. It's like I said. The ship has continued to settle; the airlock is jammed tight against the bottom. I can't get in any more." Pop said, "And I suppose there's no way to attach a drag to the ship, work it loose?" "It would take more power than we have." Gloomily. And then Bobby remembered, suddenly. He said, "Hey, Dick--!" "Never mind, kid. Help me off with this suit." "But listen, Dick. I read a story once--" "Do what your brother asks, Robert." "Will you let me finish, Pop? Listen, Dick, in this story a rocketeer got locked out of his spaceship. So he unfastened the stern-braces and got in through the rocket jet!" "He ... did ... what?" "Unfastened the stern-braces--" "I heard you!" Dick's face had suddenly lighted. "Great day in the morning, Pop--I bet it'll work! Hand me that jack-wrench ... that's the one! So long!" And he was under water again. This time he stayed under for more than an hour. He bobbed up, finally, while Pop and Bobby were having sandwiches. Pop said, "How's it going, Richard?" "Give me a fresh capsule," demanded Dick. He took the oxy-tainer, replenished his supply pack, disappeared. A long time passed. Too long a time. Bobby began to feel apprehensive. He didn't say anything, though, because he knew Pop was feeling the same way. And then-- "There he is!" said Pop. And sure enough, Dick was coming up out of the water slowly. Terribly slowly. Bobby saw why. It was because he was weighted by a square box held in his arms. A familiar square box. The hypatomic motor of the _Cuchulainn_! "Got it!" gasped Dick. "Easy, now ... it's heavy. I hope it'll work. It's been under water so doggoned long--" Joyfully, they lugged it all the way back to Delta Port. It was sleep-time when they got there, but they were too excited to sleep. By fire- and candle-light, Dick worked on the salvaged power unit, patching, wiring, repairing. And at dawn he had it hooked up. He raised his head gleefully. "Get ready, folks! Here's the blow that smashes the hopes of the Wilkes clan. Behold--_light_!" And he closed a switch. There was a throbbing hum, a glow, a moment of bright, joyous, welcome light. Then an angry growl from deep in the bowels of the atomic box. And a sudden, blinding flash of blue light-- Darkness! And from the darkness, Pop's voice. "Ruined! It was under water too long, son. Too long!" "Too long," echoed Dick dolefully. * * * * * It was Grampaw Moseley who revived their dejected spirits. When they had rested, he came to them, pounding his cane on the floor, snarling at them with unexpected vigor. "You young uns gimme a pain! Robert, I'm ashamed o' ye. An' you, too, Dicky-boy! Actin' like we was licked just because a silly-lookin' little old box won't act up right.