The others followed,
the conning-tower hatch was dogged shut, and soon the _Swiftsure_ was
gliding off into the shadowy blue-green depths.
"What's your sailing plan, skipper?" Hank Sterling inquired. The
quiet-spoken, square-jawed engineer stood beside Tom at the atomic
turbine controls and looked out through the transparent nose of the
jetmarine.
"Go slow. Give 'em plenty of chance to pick up our trail," Tom replied.
For two hours they cruised at moderate speed. Nothing happened.
Disappointed, Tom surfaced and radioed his father for news, after
cutting in the automatic scrambling device.
"You're in time for an exciting flash," Mr. Swift reported jubilantly.
"What is it, Dad?"
"An attempt to earthquake New York has just failed!"
Grins broke out on the faces of the crew as they heard Mr. Swift's words
come over the loud-speaker. Bud let out a happy whoop.
"That's great, Dad!" Tom said. "Maybe we've got 'em licked on the quake
front. No luck so far, though, on our new project."
"Well, keep in touch and let me know at once if anything happens," Mr.
Swift urged.
"Right, Dad!" Tom promised.
Again the _Swiftsure_ submerged. This time it was only a few minutes
before Arv Hanson gave a cry of warning.
"Something on the sonarscope, skipper!"
Bud, Hank, and Chow hastily gathered around the scope to watch. The blip
grew larger rapidly. It was clearly another submarine, closing in on a
collision course.
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