The men in the control room stared at Bell with unbelieving eyes. "I tell you part of the hull of the Southern Queen has been rolled over on top of us," shouted Earl. "We're trapped! We're trapped!" His voice broke. Tim felt sick. Down 185 feet under the surface of the water, there was no way of sending up news of their predicament and no one there even if they could send it up. Commander Ford remained calm. "Stay at your posts," he ordered. "I'll go forward and see what can be learned." Tim followed him. The Commander took over the telephone and spoke to the divers, sitting inside their compartment. "What can you make out?" he asked Charlie Gill. The reply was not encouraging. "Part of the upperstructure of the Southern Queen was toppled over on us when that last earth shock came," reported Gill. "I'm going outside and see what can be done." The doors of the diving compartment clicked open and the chief diver disappeared. Long minutes dragged by. There was no word from the man on whom they were pinning so much of their hopes. Finally Charlie Gill staggered back into view. Tim knew from the sag of his shoulders that the mission had been useless. Again the doors of the diving compartment were shut and he heard Gill's voice coming over the wire into the receivers on Commander Ford's head. "We're caught tight," reported the diver. "There doesn't seem to be a chance to escape." Tim looked down at the rusty treasure chests, piled in such a haphazard fashion on the floor of the outer diving compartment. All thought of the treasure had left their minds now. The one desire was to get back to the surface. The _S-18_ quivered occasionally as new earth shocks rocked the bottom of the ocean. Commander Ford put down the headset and turned back toward the control room. "We'll try it again," he said. The electrics hummed, the propellers threshing first one way and then another, but there was no upward movement of the submarine. The water was blown from the diving compartment and Gill and Graham struggled out of their diving suits. Commander Ford called them to one side, and they conversed at length. Tim caught only snatches of the conversation, but it was enough to tell him that their situation was almost hopeless. Already the air inside the _S-18_ seemed heavy and his head ached miserably. "How long can we last?" he asked Pat, who was standing by in the control room. The chief officer shrugged. "Let's not think about that." The motors were shut off and the only sound was the faint humming of the ventilating fans as they forced a current of air from one compartment to another. The crew, gathered in little groups, conversed in whispers. Joe Gartner, the gunner, battered open the top of one of the treasure chests and neat rows of gold bars were revealed. There was only a murmur of enthusiasm. Any man aboard would have traded a safe trip back to the surface for his share of the gold.