Quickly a boom was swung out overside. From it hung several pulleys to which was attached a narrow steel platform. Presently three tall Negroes carried out of the storeroom grotesque-looking diving suits which weighed over two hundred and fifty pounds apiece. [Illustration: He Shuffled Across the Deck] Captain Britten spoke in Spanish to one of them, then the fellow began putting on the weird uniform. It made him look like a visitor from another world. The tremendous weight of his garb prevented him from moving at more than a slow shuffle across the deck, strong though he was. [Illustration: A Trail of Bubbles] A section of the railing had been removed to allow access to the dangling metal platform upon which the diver stepped. The boom swung out and the drum of the winch began unrolling. In a few seconds only a trail of vanishing bubbles marked the spot where the Negro had gone into the sea. "How long will it take him to reach bottom?" asked Ned, peering overside in fascination. "About forty minutes," replied Captain Britten. "A diver must be lowered and raised gradually in order to avoid the terrible after-effects of a sudden change in pressure. At three hundred feet the pressure is more than eighteen thousand pounds per square foot!" [Illustration: Tom Held His Watch to His Ear] Time dragged on. Down, down rolled the heavy cable supporting the diver. Finally Tom held his watch to his ear, as though he were afraid it might have stopped. "Oh, it's still running," laughed Ned a little nervously as he observed his chum's action. "Only five more minutes, Tom!" [Illustration: He Reported a Good Sandy Bottom] At last a bell tinkled and Captain Britten grabbed up the telephone instrument which connected barge and diver. For a few seconds he listened, then replied briefly in Spanish. "Alvarez is down," he said to Tom as he hung up the receiver. "He reports a good, sandy bottom but no sight yet of the meteorite. At any rate, there's no danger of it having sunk in an oozy bottom." Ten minutes later the phone buzzed again, this time with a request that the ship be moved a little east and that Manuel, Alvarez's mate, be sent down to help. This was done, and another telephone instrument was plugged in. [Illustration: Manuel Was to Go Down] Tom, who understood a little Spanish, stood by to hear the report of the second diver. Both lines were now kept open continuously. Finally Manuel reached bottom, saying that he had contacted Alvarez. For some minutes nothing came through either telephone but the sound of the submerged men's breathing. [Illustration: Something Has Gone Wrong!] "I see something, Senor! A rock--'que grande'!" came to Tom's ears suddenly. "It must indeed be that which the Senor seeks. But, Santa Maria! there is something else--!" Manuel's voice broke off suddenly. "Captain Britten! Can you hear your man?" shouted Tom after his repeated attempts to renew, the connection had failed.