you, Mr. Wells? Did I hear you, Mr. Wells?"

"Yes!" Keith shouted impatiently. "This is Commander Wells! For
heaven's sake, McKegnie, where are you?"

"I don't know, sir!" the cook responded. "Where are you?"

Keith was for the moment perplexed. "But--but, are you a prisoner?" he
questioned. And he could have sworn he heard a distinct note of pride
as the invisible McKegnie replied: "Oh, no, sir! Not yet! These devils
been tryin' their best to get me, but they couldn't! No, sir!"

Wells became more and more puzzled. "Then--but--you're not running the
_NX-1_, are you?"

McKegnie's voice was much louder now, and growing every second. The
note of pride persisted. "Of course, sir!" he confirmed. "It was kind
of hard at first, with these octopises botherin' me, but I got onto it
pretty quick. That octopis ship chased me with them heat rays for a
long time, but I ain't seen them lately. I guess I kinda tired them
out."

* * * * *

His last words grew louder with a rush, and from the dark depths
beneath a long shape suddenly appeared, hurtling up at the group of
astounded men in a zoom that bade fair to take it straight through the
ceiling. It was the _NX-1_.

"Dive, man, dive!" Keith yelled. "Cook, pull that black-handled lever
towards you! Yank it back! Yank it back! Quick!" He sighed with relief
as he saw his madly-driven submarine pause, whip its nose downward,
and crash back for the depths from which it had come.

The commander spoke rapidly. "McKegnie, listen: Leave the black lever
halfway, so you'll level out. Straighten your helm. We're only a
little above you; come round in a circle till I tell you to stop."

The _NX-1_ came out of her dive, and, as the cook evidently shoved her
helm over, went skirting around in a wide, drunken circle, some
thousand feet below her regular crew.

"All right!" Keith shouted. The fear that the octopi submarine would
dart back before he could get aboard his ship was looming in his mind.
"You're at the helm, Cook; there's a wheel right over your head. Spin
it around--oh, my God, there you go again!" He groaned while the
_NX-1_ went swooping off on a repetition of her crazy circle.

"Sorry, sir," the culinary navigator said thickly. "I guess I got the
wrong thing."

"Now!" Wells roared. "Spin that wheel above your head.... That's
right--right--there! Don't touch a thing, Cook! We're coming down."

The submarine had paused directly beneath th