art easily
and that there was plenty of gas, while Rick put their tanks and
regulators aboard. Then, with a final farewell to Steve, the boys got
aboard Orvil's boat, secured the runabout to the stern, and started off.

On the way to Swamp Creek, Rick and Scotty described their plan to the
crabber. Harris slapped his thigh. "Now we're gettin' somewhere. You
just lay the pole and rope up on the gunwale as I go by, and leave the
rest to me. If the thing on the bottom is too heavy, I can pull it in.
Got a line to put on it?"

Rick admitted they had forgotten that detail. "We can cut a length off
the pole line."

"No need. Plenty of short lengths in that rope locker behind you. Take
what you need."

The boys each selected a ten-foot length of half-inch nylon rope,
sufficiently long for hauling the object up, if need be.

Harris asked, "Sure you can find your way underwater in the dark?"

"We have wrist compasses with luminous dials," Scotty explained.

"Good. Any danger of you comin' up under me?"

"No. We'll see the white bubbles from your prop. They'll be
phosphorescent." Rick pointed to the crab boat's wake. Thousands of tiny
bay creatures, most of them almost invisible bits of jelly, flashed blue
white as the prop disturbed them, so that the wake twinkled as though
studded with stars.

They fell silent as Harris crossed the Little Choptank, the steady beat
of his motor nearly lost in the darkness. Rick could not make out
details or landmarks, but Harris knew the way as well as he knew the
inside of his own boat. Rick enjoyed the coolness of the night, and even
the heavy scent of the salted eel the crabber used as bait.

Harris tapped each boy on the shoulder in turn, and pointed. They could
barely make out the entrance to the creek. They nodded, and shook hands,
then Rick pulled the runabout towline and brought the smaller boat to
the crabber's stern. Scotty stepped aboard and held out a hand. Rick
joined him, casting off as he embarked. In a moment they were adrift.

It took only five minutes to get their tanks in place, put on fins, and
go through their routine of checking weight belt releases, making
certain that the emergency valves were in the "up" position on the
tanks, and ensuring that regulators were operating smoothly. Rick
slipped into the water with only a small splash, and Scotty followed.
They took the runabout's bow rope and swam easily and quietly.

There was no hurry. Orvil Harris would ne