was reading.

"Possibly," replied his father; and his son resumed his perusal of the
sheet.

"Now," went on the inventor to the aeronaut, "I have another plan. In
addition to the positive and negative plates which will form our motive
power, I am going to install forward and aft propellers, to use in case
of accident."

"I say, dad! Did you see this?" suddenly exclaimed Tom, getting up from
his chair, and holding his finger on a certain place in the page of the
paper.

"Did I see what?" asked Mr. Swift.

"Why, this account of the sinking of the treasure ship."

"Treasure ship? No. Where?"

"Listen," went on Tom. "I'll read it: 'Further advices from Montevideo,
Uruguay, South America, state that all hope has been given up of
recovering the steamship Boldero, which foundered and went down off
that coast in the recent gale. Not only has all hope been abandoned of
raising the vessel, but it is feared that no part of the three hundred
thousand dollars in gold bullion which she carried will ever be
recovered. Expert divers who were taken to the scene of the wreck state
that the depth of water, and the many currents existing there, due to a
submerged shoal, preclude any possibility of getting at the hull. The
bullion, it is believed, was to have been used to further the interests
of a certain revolutionary faction, but it seems likely that they will
have to look elsewhere for the sinews of war. Besides the bullion the
ship also carried several cases of rifles, it is stated, and other
valuable cargo. The crew and what few passengers the Boldero carried
were, contrary to the first reports, all saved by taking to the boats.
It appears that some of the ship's plates were sprung by the stress in
which she labored in a storm, and she filled and sank gradually.'
There! what do you think of that, dad?" cried Tom as he finished.

"What do I think of it? Why, I think it's too bad for the
revolutionists, Tom, of course."

"No; I mean about the treasure being still on board the ship. What
about that?"

"Well, it's likely to stay there, if the divers can't get at it. Now,
Mr. Sharp, about the propellers--"

"Wait, dad!" cried Tom earnestly.

"Why, Tom, what's the matter?" asked Mr. Swift in some surprise.

"How soon before we can finish our submarine?" went on Tom, not
answering the question.

"About a month. Why?"

"Why? Dad, why can't we have a try for that treasure? It ought to be
comparatively easy to find that