"What are you going to try, Tom?" asked Ned.

"I'm going to shove her farther into the mud bank," announced
the young inventor. "I think that's the only way to get her
loose."

"Bless my apple pie, Tom!" cried Mr. Damon, "doesn't that seem
a foolish thing to do?"

"It's the only thing to do, I believe," was the answer. "This
mud is of a peculiar sticky and holding kind. The sub's nose is
in it like a peg in a hole. What I propose to do now is to
enlarge the hole, and then our nose will come loose--I hope."

"But you haven't any right to shove our nose further in!" cried
Mr. Hardley. "I won't allow it! I demand to be put on the
surface! I won't be drowned down here before I get the gold
that's coming to me--the gold and--"

"Now look here!" suddenly cried Tom. "I'm in command of this
boat, and you'll do as I say. I'll gladly set you on the surface
if I can, and this is the only way it can be brought about--it's
the only way to save all of us. I'm going to enlarge the mud hole
so we can pull out. Please keep still!"

Mr. Hardley stared at the young inventor a moment, seemed about
to say something, and then changed his mind.

"Hold fast, everybody!" suddenly called Tom. The next moment