The diver when a short distance forward of the locality of the conning tower and the great hole which had been torn open by the Paulding when she overwhelmed the under-sea boat, heard a responsive tapping from the inside. Then the diver tapped out in the telegraph code, “Are you alive.” The answer quickly came back, “Yes, six of us are alive here.” Again the diver tapped, “Everything possible is being done to help you.” Again from the inside, “The air is very bad in here, please hurry.” This was Sunday afternoon, twenty-four hours after the disaster. When it was found that six men were still alive renewed and strenuous efforts were made to reach the men. All day Sunday and all Sunday night a hundred men with such appliances as it was possible to get, labored to bring the bow of the boat to the surface. Late in the afternoon of Sunday a diver went down and in response to his tapping found that the six men were still alive, but they signalled, “We are still alive but growing weaker. We cannot stand it much longer. Please hurry.” The diver’s tapping along all other parts of the ship obtained no other response. The other men on the boat had been imprisoned either in the engine room or the after compartments and were all probably drowned when the ship went to the bottom. Monday morning brought no change or any hope of relief. The northwest gale had become bitterly cold, and it was more and more certain that not a man on the boat was alive, as these men had been entombed more than forty-eight hours, so the probability or even possibility of any man being alive down there a hundred feet under the sea was remote indeed. What still further added to the horror of the situation, the increasing cold and freezing winds drove the rescuers from their work, because it was impossible to send divers down. By this time the imprisoned men had been so long in their iron coffin, it was not possible that human life could endure for that time or withstand the terrible conditions. Sunday night two monstrous pontoons were brought to the scene, hoping by their use the bow of the boat might be brought to the surface. These pontoons were brought from New London by four powerful tugs, through the Cape Cod Canal, but this was unavoidably slow on account of the unwieldy shape of the tow and there was no hope that these pontoons could reach the spot until it was too late. Eight skilled divers were already on the scene. Diver Thomas Eadie went over the side earlier in the day and it was he who was able to communicate with the entombed men by means of the hammer tapping signals. The last signals tapped from the inside of the ship were, “How long will you be now, hurry.” Late Sunday P. M. diver Michaels heard from the dying men, “We cannot live beyond six o’clock.”