“Thank goodness, he’s still alive!”
“What happened to him?” Arv asked.
Tom shook his head, puzzled. “I don’t know -just knocked out, I hope.”
A Whirling Duck soon arrived, bringing Doc Simpson, the young medic from the plant infirmary. He was accompanied by Harlan Ames and Phil Radnor, Ames’s stocky, barrel-chested assistant. While Doc examined the unconscious man, Tom told the two security officers how he had detected the trail of some stranger or strange craft before finding Hank on the beach.
“He’s not in shock and I don’t see any head
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94 AQUATOMIC TRACKER
contusions,” Doc announced. “I’d say he might have been gassed-but that’s only a guess.”
Hank was now stirring slightly. After Doc Simpson passed some spirits of ammonia under his nose, the husky trouble shooter soon revived.
“Feel like talking?” Tom asked.
“Sure, I’m okay now.” Hank managed to give a somewhat woozy grin and insisted upon getting to his feet. “After I headed out to sea, I tried to fool your tracking gear by doubling back to Fearing. But when I got near the island, I sighted a big shark-at least that’s what I thought it was.”
“What do you mean?” Tom asked.
“Well, I had my hydrophone pickup switched on, and I suddenly realized this thing was giving off fish noises-you know, beeping and grunting.”
Ames looked puzzled. “Is that unusual?”
“Sure is,” Hank replied. “Sharks don’t make such noises-they’re the strong, silent type.”
“They have no swim bladders,” Tom explained, “which is the organ most fish use for producing sounds. Sharks don’t even have the right kind of teeth to make grinding noises.”
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