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For his frogmen, he made a sweeping gesture that told them to tackle the wreck anywhere. The frogmen moved in, operating in pairs. The water clouded rapidly with silt, particles of marine growth, and fish eggs. The top of the captain's cabin came off. Rick swam in through the murk and picked up the chair that had seemed to be in good condition.
Scotty had seen another boat, a big cabin cruiser, tied up at the pier in front of the house occupied by the fancy frogmen! Rick turned and looked at the cruiser, then at the house. He was in time to see the front door close. There would have been plenty of time for someone to drop the chicken from the cruiser and then cross the reef and tie up at the dock.
"The question is," Scotty remarked, "did they take the gadget to the octopus cave?" Tony joined them on the porch in time to hear Scotty's query. "I can shed some light on that. It happens that I woke up at dawn and looked out to see how the weather was behaving. The frogmen were anchored off the eastern reef in the same place.
On land, he was sure he and Scotty could outrun the enemy, but in the water, speed depended on skill with the fins, and the power of leg strokes. He doubted that the frogmen were much faster than he and Scotty, but there was an excellent chance that their speed in the water was equal. He conserved his air, spacing his breathing, taking only enough air to keep comfortable.
Before doing so, however, he took them into the adjoining office where the two frogmen were being questioned. "Any luck?" the chief asked the sergeant. Sergeant Gryce shook his head in disgust. "Not much. They did admit they came in a sub, but they claim it didn't wait to pick them up."
A figure dove to meet Rick. He angled away, fighting the impulse to breathe, keeping the compressed air moving out of his lungs. The figure angled with him, then suddenly sheered off. Rick shot past and the figure followed. These new frogmen were diving in midseason suits. He was aware of nearly a dozen of them. He didn't count them; with his terrible need for oxygen he didn't care that much.
They hovered motionless, watching, and as one of the frogmen moved they saw that it was the brass ball. Rick started his camera. He had an advantage, because the frogmen were concentrating on what they were doing, their backs to him. He moved in cautiously, camera grinding, then backed away again when he thought he had enough long shots.
He thought he felt constriction in his lungs from the warning signal that his air was running out, but finally decided it was only his imagination. Now the frogmen would be aboard the Water Witch, making a quick search, spear guns ready to fire their lethal shafts. Now they would be in the cabin and shouting their disappointment.
Hobart is right. This is lead." A call from the water made them look up. Chief Sanders and his diving buddy had surfaced, and they were carrying a statue of St. Francis! Behind them, another pair of frogmen, with still another statue! Within a half hour there were no less than eight identical statues lined up on deck. St. Francis, in lead, repeated eight times. Scotty scratched his head.
Steve Ames motioned to one of the frogmen. "Run these fellows over to the beach, please, then wait and bring them back." He turned to the boys. "Put on dry clothes. Then come on back. We need to talk." An hour later the boys, the scientists, Steve, and Kelly were seated at a table in the destroyer escort's tiny wardroom, noses twitching over the savory steaks that were being served.
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