usually as quiet as the waters of a pond.

There were other glass-bottom boats out that afternoon, and they were scattered just off shore to Sugarloaf Rock and beyond. Not far from the towering Rock were two or three rowboats, each manned by an oarsman, and carrying a man in a bathing suit.

"Them's divers," explained Ike, nodding to the men in the bathing suits. "Didn't you see 'em when your boat come in?"

"No," answered Hill, "I was too busy gettin' ashore. What were those divers doing when our boats came in?"

"Passengers were throwin' money overboard and they were divin' for it. You'll see 'em when you get in the steamer to go back to Pedro. Over yan by Ole Sugarloaf the divers goes down under the glass bottoms, looks up at you from below, makes faces, throws kisses at the girls, and I don't know what all. Likewise, they brings up abalone shells; you can see 'em brought up, and can buy 'em for a quarter apiece. A very pretty and interestin' souvenir of your trip to the island. Now, look down, for we're right over, the gardens."

"It's funny," remarked Hill, "that I'm such a good swimmer when this seasickness takes holt o' me so, hard and quick. Maybe if I'd swim the ocean the water wouldn't bother my stummick at all. I—"

The words died on Hill's lips. He suddenly found himself gazing from one world into another of weird beauty and wondrous enchantment.

Beneath his eyes and Clancy's there unfolded a landscape of rainbow tints flecking a forest of softly waving trees. Some of the trees bore fruit, and in and out among their branches swam fishes of silver and gold. It was like fairyland, that landscape on the bed of the sea.

"Beats anything I ever seen!" whispered the entranced Hiram. "If a mermaid was to float up to the glass bottom of this here boat and shake a finger at me, I'd go right over the side and join her in them pretty gardens."

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Clancy. "Look at the rocks and shells! You can, see them as clearly as though they were out of the water and on the land."

"Them forests," explained Ike, "are made of kelp. From kelp is where we get our iodine of commerce. It takes four hundred pounds of kelp to make one pound of iodine."

"And a million pounds of the iodine o' commerce," snorted Hiram, "ain't worth one pound o' kelp, down below and growin' same as we see. What do they, want to root it up for? Why don't they leave it where it is, to please the eye that looks down through these glass-bottom boats?"

"I pass," answered Ike wearily. "I ain't no philosopher, that-a-way. Kelp's no good and iodine's useful–that's all I know. Diver's goin' over and comin' this way," he added, with sudden animation. "Watch close, now, and maybe you'll see him pick up an abalone shell, and look up and make faces. It's right remarkable how long some o' them divers can stay under the water. Look sharp!"

Clancy and Hill looked sharp, but they couldn't see anything of the diver.

"Shucks!" grunted Ike. "He come up for another boat afore he got here. But he'll be along after a spell."

Ike rested from his rowing a bit, and filled and, lighted his pipe.

"Up there," said he, waving his hand aloft, "is the towerin' summits o' Black Jack and Orizaba, If you're goin' to be on the island overnight you don't want to miss the coach trip to the top o' the uplifts. It's ten miles up and two miles back, same road all the way," he chuckled as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, "and the round trip is only eight miles. It'll cost you a dollar apiece, and you don't want to miss it."

Clancy and Hill had already discovered that the inhabitants of Avalon had a hand out for tourist money. When one had got all he could of a guileless sight-seer, he passed him on to a brother who had something else to show. But they were a kindly lot, those Avalonians for all that.

"Now, watch!" warned Ike. "Here the diver comes, for sure!"

This time Ike was correct. Clancy and Hill, peering through the glass bottom of the boat, saw a human form glide gracefully to a point directly underneath, turn over on its back, and float face upward, full a dozen feet below the surface.

The diver commenced to throw kisses and to make faces, but he suddenly ceased that pleasing performance. His face abruptly froze as with horror, and his wide eyes looked, up at the two faces staring down through the glass.

A sharp exclamation escaped Clancy's lips. Hill gave a yell, sat up and began tearing off his coat, hat, and vest.

"It's–it's Hank Burton!" he murmured, far gone with wonder. "It's Gerald Wynn's pard, and he helped walk off with your fifteen thousand, Clancy! What's he doin' in the marine gardens, I'd like to know? Wouldn't this put kinks into your intelleck? Say!"

Hiram Hill was climbing up on his seat, bending low to avoid hitting the canopy top.

"What are you going to do?" shouted Clancy.

"I'm goin' down into the marine gardens, lookin' for trouble! If I can get my lunch hooks on that chap below, I'll bring him aboard, or ashore, or we'll both stay down in the kelp till the crack o' doom! You hear me, Clancy? That feller gave us the slip once, but he'll not do it again!"

With that, Hiram Hill kicked off his shoes, rolled over the rail and went into the water with a splash. Clancy reached for him, but was a minute too late, for his fingers clutched only empty air.

"Look!" whispered Ike huskily, leaning over the glass bottom and staring; "for the love o' Mike, look what's goin' on down there!"

CHAPTER VII.

AT THE BASE OF OLD SUGARLOAF.

Clancy and Ike had the privilege of seeing one of the strangest sights that any one ever saw through a glass-bottom boat. They saw a half-clad man grab another in a bathing suit, and immediately a submarine wrestling match was staged. Burton gripped Hill about the throat, and Hill's fingers slipped forthwith to Burton's windpipe. The scene grew more and more horrible as the moments passed, and Clancy fell to throwing aside his garments preparatory to making a trip of his own to the marine gardens.

"Wait!" clamored Ike excitedly. "They've broke loose from each other! They're comin' up. Don't go in!"

Clancy took another look through the glass. Burton's face was livid and ghastly, and it was plain that he was hard put to it for breath. With feeble, faltering strokes he was coming to the surface. Hill was following him as relentlessly as a shark.

The rowboat, from which Burton had dived, came alongside the flat-bottom craft. The fellow at the oars Clancy did not know. The motor wizard had half expected to see either Gerald Wynn or Bob Katz, but the oarsman was neither of these.

"What's happened?" he asked, a tense note of alarm in his voice.

Before Ike could answer, Burton's head bobbed to the surface, and a gurgling cry for help floated over the water.

"Wait a minute!" called Clancy, catching the side of the smaller boat before the man at the oars could get away from Ike's craft, "I guess I'll go with you."

Without much difficulty, Clancy transferred himself from one boat to the other.

"You needn't wait for us, Ike!" he called. "Have our clothes ready for us when we call for them, that's all."

"What're you trying to do?" demanded the oarsman.

"We've got two fellows to pick up," Clancy answered, "and I'm going to help. Are you a friend of Burton's?"

"I get half he makes for handlin' the boat for him."

"How long has he been doing this?"

"Yesterday and to-day."

"And your name is—"

"Mynie Boltwood."