Then escape through the conning-tower was considered. As a last resort we could try that! But as the Captain put it: “At this depth, I’m afraid that the pressure would get us, for with a pressure of two or three tons per square foot, our lungs would probably collapse, in which case we would sink instead of rise. If we did get to the surface alive, we would probably get the ‘bends’ or lose consciousness from the pressure, and drown. Life preservers wouldn’t prevent that, and we only have a few aboard anyway. That gives me an idea, though! We might roll up a kapoc mattress lengthwise, cut our message into that piece of oilcloth I saw lying around here, and sew it around the mattress. We could shoot that through the conning-tower escape hatch; the air bubbles would carry it to the surface, and as kapoc floats, it might be picked up by some ship, particularly if by that time they were looking for us. We will need a volunteer for this, for someone will have to manipulate the conning-tower hatch, and that man, to have any chance of withstanding the pressure, must be one of the strongest among us.” “When you’re ready, Captain, I want to be that man,” spoke up Bowers, “for I can probably stand the pressure better than anyone else, as I’ve had some deep-sea diving experience. What’s more, I caused all this.” “All right, Bowers,” said the Captain, visibly moved, “when the time comes, if I don’t take on the job myself, your offer may be accepted. But I don’t want to try that yet, for it would mean draining a lot of water into the boat, just making us that much heavier; and I don’t want to do anything that will jeopardize our chances of getting our stern to the surface, for I have not given up hope of that by a damn’ sight and won’t so long as this chlorine gas allows us to keep moving weight forward.” * * * * * The calcium ejection was tried out, and was to be tried again that night. The results, of course, we unfortunately could not tell. The hydrophone listener reported that he thought he detected a ship passing about five o’clock that evening. It was encouraging to know that ships did occasionally pass, but they couldn’t help us yet for we had no way of letting them know where we were, unless they passed almost over us, in which case we might attract their attention by the oil slick, or blowing out big bubbles of air through the tanks. However, the Captain used the news to encourage the crew as much as possible. [Illustration: Just as we took our big angle, a mess-cook, passing through the control-room, was thrown off his balance; soup and broken dishes were sprayed all over the deck.] All through the night we worked—with no thought of sleep. Most of the flashlights had gone out. The men, in relays, worked at the hand pumps, pumping away in the darkness, hoping against hope that they would live to see the light of day.