“Stranahan, be silent!” snapped the Captain, in high irritation. “You’re always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time!” “Yes, sir,” admitted Stranahan, meekly, a grave expression in his pale blue eyes. “If you want to make yourself useful, Stranahan,” continued the Captain severely, although with less asperity than before, “go forward, and find out how far we are beneath sea level.” “Aye, aye, sir,” agreed Stranahan, remembering to salute. “How far below were we at the last reading, sir?” I inquired of the Captain, after Stranahan had vanished through the small compartment door. “Thirty-seven hundred feet,” returned the officer, abruptly. “But we’ve sunk considerably since then.” It was at this juncture that Stranahan reappeared in the doorway, a stare of blank, incredulous astonishment on his lean, hardened face. “Well?” the Captain demanded. “How far below are we now?” Stranahan mopped his brow as if to wipe off an invisible perspiration. But he answered not a word. “Stranahan,” growled the exasperated officer, somewhat after the manner of a schoolma’am to an unruly pupil, “do you hear me? I’m asking to know how far below we are now.” “Well, sir,” drawled Stranahan, saluting mechanically, “wouldn’t I be telling you if I knew? But, saints in heaven, sir, that machine must be bewitched! Else I’m seeing things!” “Didn’t you notice the reading?” bawled the Captain. “Yes, sir,” Stranahan replied, humbly. “That’s what the trouble is, sir.” “Then how far below are we?” Stranahan hesitated as though he would rather not speak. “Forty-four feet,” he muttered, at length. A murmur of suppressed excitement passed from end to end of the room. “Forty-four feet!” yelled the Captain. “You mean forty-four hundred!” “No, sir,” maintained Stranahan, quietly. “I mean forty-four.” * * * * * The Captain’s anger became uncontrollable. “Stranahan, you must take me for a fool!” he shouted. “This is not the moment for practical jokes! At any other time I’d have you thrown in the brig!” “But, sir----” Stranahan started to protest. “That’s enough!” roared the officer, fairly shaking with fury. And, turning to one of the younger men, he commanded, “Ripley, see how far below water level we are!” “Aye, aye, sir,” assented Ripley, and left the room. A moment later he returned with a sheepish grin on his face. “Well, how far below are we?” demanded the Captain. But Ripley, like Stranahan, seemed reluctant to speak. He coughed, gasped, stammered out an unintelligible syllable or two, cleared his throat, stood gaping at us stupidly while we looked on expectantly, and finally blurted out, “Forty---- forty-three feet, sir!” “Forty-three feet!” bellowed the Captain. “Has the whole crew gone crazy?” And, without further ado, Gavison himself went lunging toward the door, and disappeared in the forward compartment.