100 Fathoms Under - Rick Brant 04 by John Blaine

Author:John Blaine [Blaine, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

The Dragon God

The first thing Rick noticed when he came out of his tent in the morning was that the jungle was quiet again. The watchers were back, probably waiting for some reaction to their warning. If so, they were disappointed. The Spindrift party was too anxious to start diving to worry about whether or not their presence was wanted on the island.

Aboard the trawler, Otera had breakfast ready. The Spindrift group, minus Scotty and Gordon, sat down on the hatch to eat. As Rick spooned fresh grapefruit, the other two reappeared, grins on their faces.

“We’ve been getting ready for our lottery,” Gordon announced. Rick saw that he and Scotty carried hats.

“We wrote all our names on scraps of paper,” Scotty added. He held up his hat. “Rick, Chahda, and I are in this hat.” He held the hat above Zircon’s head. “Will you draw one slip, sir?”

Rick stopped breathing. He wanted desperately to make the first dive.

Zircon fumbled around in the inverted hat for a moment, then came up with a folded slip of paper.

Rick watched as the big scientist took his time unfolding it. He squinted at it, held it to the light for a better look, then carefully folded it again. Rick could contain himself no longer. “Who is it?” he pleaded.

Zircon contemplated the slip of paper, then smiled at the eager faces around him.

“The name on the paper,” he said, “is . . .” he hesitated, and looked at Chahda. Rick’s hopes sank.

“Is Mr. Rick Brant,” Zircon continued.

For an instant Rick stared, then he let out a whoop. Scotty and Chahda shook his hand solemnly.

“Now,” Gordon said, “let’s see which of us goes down with Rick. Chahda, will you draw a slip?” He held out the hat that he carried.

Rick watched as Chahda reached in and produced a folded slip. If only his father’s name were chosen . . but that would be too much luck.

“Mr. Hartson Brant,” Chahda read.

And then everyone was congratulating the two Brants on their good fortune while Rick and his father grinned happily, too stunned by such exceptional luck to even talk.

It wasn’t until much later that they discovered they had been the victims of a conspiracy. The others of the party, knowing the Brants would never agree to accept the honor of the first dive without taking their chances equally with the rest, had gotten together and worked out a simple plan. All three scraps of paper in Scotty’s hat had carried Rick’s name. Hartson Brant’s name had been written on the three in Gordon’s hat.

Hartson Brant finished his coffee and smiled at his son. “All set, Rick?”

“Yes, sir,” Rick agreed eagerly. He helped arrange the oxygen supply, while Zircon and Gordon busied themselves with the salvage cable. Turk Mallane came aft and reported, “We’re right over the temple.”

“Good,” Hartson Brant said. “We’ll try for the center of it. Gordon, how’s the cable?”

“Ready,” Gordon replied.

The salvage cable was wound on a drum controlled by a small winch Gordon had added to the ship’s equipment.

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