at's what I read in an encyclopedia."

"Guess you're referring to James Hooper, who reached that depth off the
South American coast some years ago," smiled Tom Swift. "But since
then diving-dress has undergone considerable improvement, eh, Captain
Britten?"

[Illustration: A Boom Was Swung Overside]

"That's right. I have on board several of the newest type suits.
Besides, I use native divers, men who, even without protection, can
descend to almost unbelievable distances."

Quickly a boom was swung out overside. From it hung several pulleys to
which was attached a narrow steel platform. Presently three tall
Negroes carried out of the storeroom grotesque-looking diving suits
which weighed over two hundred and fifty pounds apiece.

[Illustration: He Shuffled Across the Deck]

Captain Britten spoke in Spanish to one of them, then the fellow began
putting on the weird uniform. It made him look like a visitor from
another world. The tremendous weight of his garb prevented him from
moving at more than a slow shuffle across the deck, strong though he
was.

[Illustration: A Trail of Bubbles]

A section of the railing had been removed to allow access to the
dangling metal platform upon which the diver stepped. The boom swung out
and the drum of the winch began unrolling. In a few seconds only a trail
of vanishing bubbles marked the spot where the Negro had gone into the
sea.

"How long will it take him to reach bottom?" asked Ned, peering overside
in fascination.

"About forty minutes," replied Captain Britten. "A diver must be
lowered and raised gradually in order to avoid the terrible
after-effects of a sudden change in pressure. At three hundred feet the
pressure is more than eighteen thousand pounds per square foot!"

[Illustration: Tom Held His Watch to His Ear]

Time dragged on. Down, down rolled the heavy cable supporting the diver.
Finally Tom held his watch to his ear, as though he were afraid it might
have stopped.

"Oh, it's still running," laughed Ned a little nervously as he observed
his chum's action. "Only five more minutes, Tom!"

[Illustration: He Reported a Good Sandy Bottom]

At last a bell tinkled and Captain Britten grabbed up the telephone
instrument which connected barge and diver. For a few seconds he
listened, then replied briefly in Spanish.

"Alvarez is down," he said to Tom as he hung up the receiver. "He
reports a good, sandy bottom but no sight yet of the meteorite. At any
rate