somewhere,
and I can't let go, either. Quick, shut off all power at the main
switchboard forward."

Tom realized that this was the only thing to do. He ran forward and
with a yank cut out all the electric wires. With a sigh of relief Mr.
Sharp pulled his hands from the copper where he had been held fast as
if by some powerful magnet, his muscles cramped by the current.
Fortunately the electricity was of low voltage, and he was not burned.
The body of Mr. Swift toppled backward from the dynamo, as Tom sprang
to reach his father.

"He's dead!" he cried, as he saw the pale face and the closed eyes.

"No, only badly shocked, I hope," spoke Mr. Sharp. "But we must get him
to the fresh air at once. Start the tank pumps. We'll rise to the
surface."

The youth needed no second bidding. Once more turning on the electric
current, he set the powerful pumps in motion and the submarine began to
rise. Then, aided by Captain Weston and Mr. Damon, the young inventor
carried his father to a couch in the main cabin. Mr. Sharp took charge
of the machinery.

Restoratives were applied, and there was a flutter of the eyelids of
the aged inventor.

"I think he'll come around all right," said the sailor kindly, as he
saw Tom's grief. "Fresh air will be the thing for him. We'll be on the
surface in a minute."

Up shot the Advance, while Mr. Sharp stood ready to open the conning
tower as soon as it should be out of water. Mr. Swift seemed to be
rapidly reviving. With a bound the submarine, forced upward from the
great depth, fairly shot out of the water. There was a clanking sound
as the aeronaut opened the airtight door of the tower, and a breath of
fresh air came in.

"Can you walk, dad, or shall we carry you?" asked Tom solicitously.

"Oh, I--I'm feeling better now," was the inventor's reply. "I'll soon
be all right when I get out on deck. My foot slipped as I was adjusting
a wire that had gotten out of order, and I fell so that I received a
large part of the current. I'm glad I was not burned. Was Mr. Sharp
hurt? I saw him run to the switch, just before I lost consciousness."

"No, I'm all right," answered the balloonist. "But allow us to get you
out to the fresh air. You'll feel much better then."

Mr. Swift managed to walk slowly to the ladder leading to the conning
tower, and thence to the deck. The others followed him. As all emerged
from the submarine they uttered a cry of astonishment.

There, not one hundred yards a