Chapter XXIV. The Longest Shot

"Well, Mr. Peterson," remarked Tom, after a pause, "I'm sure I hope you will succeed in your quest. You must have met disappointment so far."

"I have, Tom. But I'm not going to give up. Can't you come over and see me before you go back North?"

"I'll try. Just where is your island?"

"Off in that direction," responded the fortune-hunter, pointing to the northeast. "It's a little farther from here than I thought it was at first--about thirty miles. But I have a little second- hand steam launch that my pardners and I use. I'll come for you, take you over and bring you back any time you say."

"After my gun has been tested," said Tom, with a smile. "Better stay and see it."

"No, I must get back to the island. I have some new information that I am sure will enable me to locate the lost mine."

"Well, good-bye, and good luck to you," called Tom, as the fortune-hunter started away.

"Do you think he'll ever find the opals, Tom?" asked Ned.

His chum shook his head.

"I don't believe so," he answered. "Alec has always been that way--always visionary--always just about to be successful; but never quite getting there."

"Then your father's ten thousand dollars will be lost?"

"Yes, I suppose so; but, in a way, dad can stand it. And if I make good on this gun test, ten thousand dollars won't look very big to me. I guess dad gave it to Alec from a sort of sentimental feeling, anyhow."

"You mean because he saved you from the live wire?"

"That's it, Ned. It was a sort of reward, in a way, and I guess dad won't be broken-hearted if Alec doesn't succeed. Only, of course, he'll feel badly for Alec himself. Poor old man! he won't be able to do much more prospecting. Well, Ned, let's get to work on that ammunition hoist. It still jams a little on the ways, and I want it to work smoothly. There's no use having a hitch--even a small one--when the big bugs assemble to see how my cannon shoots."

"That's right, Tom. Well, start off, I'm with you."

The two youths labored for some time, being helped, of course, by the workmen provided by the government, and some from the steel concern.

There were many little details to look after, not the least of which was the patrolling of the stretch of ocean over which the great projectiles would soar in reaching the far-off targets at which Tom had planned to shoot. No ships were to be allowed to cross the thirty-mile mark while the firing was in progress. So, also, the zone where the shots were expected to fall was to be cleared.

But at last all seemed in readiness. The gun had been tried again and again on its carriage. The projectiles were all in readiness, and the terribly