Another thing. The ship may have moved on several
fathoms, or even a mile or two, after her last position was taken
before she went down. In that case she'd be all the harder to find. And
even granting that she sank where you think she did, the ocean currents
since then may have shifted her. Or she may be covered by sand."

"Covered by sand!" exclaimed the gold-seeker.

"Yes," replied Tom. "The bottom of the ocean is always changing and
shifting. Storms produce changes in currents, and currents wash the
sand on the bottom in different directions. So that a wreck which may
have been exposed at one time may be covered a day or so later. We'll
have to keep on searching. I'm not ready to give up."

"Maybe not. But I am!" snapped out Mr. Hardley.

"What do you mean?" asked the young inventor.

"Just what I said," was the quick answer. "I'm not going to stay down
here, cruising about without knowing where I'm going. It looks to me
as if you were hunting for a needle in a haystack."

"That's just about what we are doing," and Tom tried to speak
good-naturedly.

"Then do you know what I think?" the gold-seeker fairly shot forth.

"Not exactly," Tom replied.

"I think that you don't understand your business, Swift!" was the
instant retort. "You pretend to be a navigator, or have men who are,
and yet when I give you simple and explicit directions for finding a
sunken wreck you can't do it, and you cruise all around looking for it
like a dog that has lost the scent! You don't know your business, in my
estimation!"

"Well, you are entitled to your opinion, of course," agreed Tom, and
both Mr. Damon and Ned were surprised to see him so calm. "I admit we
haven't found the wreck, and may not, for some time."

"Then why don't you admit you're incompetent?" cried Mr. Hardley.

"I don't see why I should," said Tom, still keeping calm. "But since
you feel that way about it, I think the best thing for us to do is to
separate."

"What do you mean?" stormed the other.

"I mean that I will set you ashore at the nearest place, and that all
arrangements between us are at an end."

"All right then! Do it! Do it!" cried Mr. Hardley, shaking his fist,
but at no one in particular. "I'm through with you! But this is your
own decision. You broke the contract--I didn't, and I'll not pay a cent
toward the expenses of this trip, Swift! Mark my words! I won't pay a
cent! I'll claim the money I deposited in the bank, and I won't pay a