"We're going to be something of a floating arsenal," chuckled Pat. "Believe me, if we get in a jam old Joe Gartner is a handy man with the four-inch gun." "What about Sladek and his expedition?" Tim asked. "Commander Ford told me this afternoon they were ready to sail at a moment's notice. We'll be slipping away tomorrow night which may cause them a little trouble in following us." The next day Tim went to the Sea King factory on Long Island and made sure his plane was ready. Then he wrote the final stories of plans for the departure and sent them to both the New York Journal and the _News_ at home, with release dates for the next day, when they would be well out to sea and off the Jersey coast. A subdued air of excitement gripped the crew of the _S-18_. This was the big night. Before midnight they would be headed down the East river, bound for the open sea and the start of the big adventure. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN The Missing Cook Across the East river the lights of Manhattan glowed brightly while in the Laidlaw yard last minute preparations for the voyage of the _S-18_ were being rushed. Supplies were being checked and every possible test of equipment was made. In the radio room Ike Green got in contact with the New York Journal station and Tim filed his last story. The next would be sent when the _S-18_ was out to sea. A whistle shrilled on the deck overhead and Tim mounted the ladder and climbed through the main hatch. Riding lights of the submarine were on. Yard workers were casting off the lines which held the _S-18_ to the towering dock. The huge Diesels came to life and the submarine pulsated gently to their song of power. Commander Ford was at his station in the conning tower while near him at the auxiliary controls was Pat Reynolds. Half a dozen other members of the crew were on deck. Down in the inky waters at the rear of the _S-18_ the propellers churned. Slowly the submarine nosed away from the boatyard, heading out toward the East river. There was no sound from the workers on the dock; no sound from the men on deck. This business of hunting sunken treasures was deadly serious. There was little traffic on the river after the midnight hour and the _S-18_ felt its way out into mid-stream and then dropped down toward the open sound. Somewhere behind them a ferryboat hooted dismally and a tramp steamer, just swinging out of its wharf, answered. "Any chance that that vessel may be Sladek's?" Tim asked Pat. "There's more than a chance. It probably is," replied the first officer. The submarine moved down the bay at a steady eight knots an hour and Tim watched the lights of Manhattan fading into a haze. They stood well down the bay for the Sea King factory was on the south shore of Long Island. Above him in the conning tower Tim could hear Commander Ford conversing with Pat. Then the commander leaned over the edge of the tower and called to the men on deck.