Jack
ordered the opening of the reserve oxygen tanks, and this gave the
sufferers temporary relief.
"Come here, Ted!" called Jack out of the darkness.
Groping his way to where his chum sat propped against the side of the
conning tower, Ted bent over the prostrate form of the ship's executive
officer.
"I'm growing weak, chum," said Jack feebly. "My limbs are numb and I
feel so cold. In case I go under keep the _Monitor_ down here about
half an hour and then take your chances on going up. Better to be
taken prisoners than die here like a lot of rats in a trap. Do you
understand, Ted?"
His teeth chattering with mingled fear and cold---fear for the life
of his old Brighton roommate and cold because of the falling temperature
due to the cutting off of all electrical energy---Ted answered in the
affirmative.
"I guess that's about all we can do, chum," he added.
Ted and Navigating Officer Binns conferred together in the control
chamber.
"Better to go up and take our chances on the surface than to remain
here under these conditions," counseled Binns.
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