A Book of Boys' Stories [antikvár]

Sam Todhunter didn't care much for continental breakfasts in any case, so missing this one mattered very little. He'd been warned not to eat it. Diving was something best done on an empty stomach, Bill Maxted had told him the night before as they walked along the sands towards the cape. He'd told a few spine-chilling stories about people who'd gone down straight after a hearty meal, and then regretted it when they doubled up with stomach cramps while on the bottom.He drank one cup of coffee, though. The morning was chilly; though the sun was already well up it had been an icy night, and it would be another hour before the heat began to make itself felt again.'Where are you off to in such a hurry?' asked his father, laughing.Sam avoided his eyes. 'Meeting Bill Maxted. We're going along the coast a bit.''You'll be back to lunch, won't you?' His mother looked vaguely anxious. 'I don't want you eating odd food in some café. Spanish food isn't like our own, you know. It could give you an upset stomach.'He shook his head. 'Be back by one at the latest.' He ran down the steps from the hotel terrace, across the dusty road towards the bright gleam of the sea.He'd read about skin-diving. He'd seen it on television, too. and longed for the chance to try it. So far the best he'd been able to do had been messing about a few feet below water with a breathing-tube, but Bill Maxted's father had the real thing a boatload of gear: suits, oxygen masks, safety-lines,9