Tom succeeded in rigging the light so that he could use it. By the time
that the boat was around at the west side of the retaining wall Tom ordered
the boat in close alongside. Then, with the depressed searchlight he
discovered that he could see the sides of the wall to a depth of some eight
feet under the surface.
"That may be enough for our needs," Reade murmured. "Now, run the boat
along, slowly and close. I want to scan every bit of the wall."
Less than five minutes later Tom Reade, one hand controlling the
searchlight and peering steadily into the water, sang out:
"Stop! Back her---slowly. There, come back five feet. So! Hold her
steady!"
As the engine stopped Conlon stepped forward, kneeling by Reade's side.
"There are the bombs, man!" cried Tom exultantly. "See them---the two
upper ones?"
"I see something that gleams," admitted Conlon.
"Well, we'll have them up and aboard in a hurry. Then you'll see just
what they are."
"You're not going to try to raise the things with the boathook, are you?"
queried the engine tender, a look of alarm in his eyes.
"That might be risky," admitted Reade. "I'll go over the side after them
and bring them up.
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