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Updated: June 24, 2025
Bud nodded grimly. "But staying just out of sonar range from the base." The jetmarine closed steadily on its quarry. In a few minutes they were able to make it out dimly through the cabin window, dead ahead. "That's sure no U.S. Navy sub that I know of," Bud said. "Probably an enemy snooper." "What if they spot us?" Zimby asked. Bud chuckled. "That's the beauty of it, pal! Don't forget.
"Had found is right past tense," Tom said wryly. "It's no doubt buried again. But at least we have the right spot." They emerged from the jetmarine and headed back toward the site. As they glided astern of the Sea Hound, Tom uttered a cry over his suit mike. "Bud! There it is!" Both boys darted ahead at increased speed, and Tom played his flashlight beam over the precious treasure.
The four took off in one of the Swifts' Whirling Ducks, which was standing by loaded and ready. Soon they landed on Fearing Island, where Tom would try out his antidetection invention. "What'll we use for a test sub, skipper?" Hank asked as they drove toward the docks. "A jetmarine," Tom replied. A truck with engineers and technicians was following the jeep.
The police chief shot a few questions of his own at the men, but they answered either in curt monosyllables or not at all. "Look, sir," Bud put in, "if they're telling the truth about their sub not waiting, our jetmarine may have chased it. That means Mel and I are stranded here. Could you have your men wait for us on the beach till we find out?" "Gladly," the chief replied.
Chow's tasty meals helped break the monotony. It was the following day when they reached the missile search area. Tom surfaced the Sea Hound and reversed blade pitch, then gunned the rotor turbines for an aerial reconnaissance flight, while the jetmarine and the other seacopter stood by in the water. "Brand my guppies, it's some ocean, eh, boss?" Chow remarked in an awed voice.
"No, she surfaced," Mel reported. "Can't make this out yet, but it could be another sub." Bud turned the controls over to Zimby Cox. Then he rushed to the scope and examined the blip. "Seems to be moving away from us on a westerly course. It's about two miles from here." He donned the hydrophone earset and listened. "It's no seacopter, nor a jetmarine either," he announced presently.
On a chance that it might become necessary to operate at greater depths either in searching for the lost missile or in shadowing the enemy Tom also assigned Arv Hanson the job of rigging the Sea Hound and another seacopter with his new inventions. Four crewmen volunteered for the cruise. When the jetmarine was ready, Tom and Bud exchanged tight handshakes. "Good luck!" "Thanks, Tom."
Tom, now seriously worried, took the seacopter down again for another search, hoping that Bud would have switched off the antidetection gear by this time. But neither sonarscope nor listening devices revealed the slightest clue. Tom, Hank, and Arv exchanged fearful glances. Had the jetmarine foundered on the ocean bottom perhaps fouled somehow by Tom's new invention?
He not only tracked the jetmarine on its outward course, but located it three different times after shutting off the analyzer long enough for Bud to seek a new location. "How'd you like to relieve Hank in the South Atlantic?" Tom asked Bud upon their return. Bud gave a whoop of excitement. "Roger!" Tom slapped him on the back. "You can take off as soon as your ship's provisioned.
"Cruise around there for an hour and we'll try to spot you in the Sea Hound." "Hide and seek, eh?" Bud grinned and snapped a salute, then left to supervise the relaunching of the jetmarine. For his crew, Bud chose Mel Flagler and another man. Mel was an experienced jetmariner who had gone on the Swift expedition to Aurum City, the underwater ruins of a lost civilization.
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