“We haven’t any accommodations for dogs aboard the Meteor,” he said. “Still, I’ll stretch a point and take him over to the vessel and let the captain decide.”
The Radio Boys, delighted with that much gained, took advantage of the permission, and together they lugged the dog, which they had agreed to call Hector, down into the stern of the boat, which, propelled by lusty arms, soon reached the side of the Meteor and was lifted on board.
Captain Springer was standing at the rail, and to him the lieutenant made his report.
“She’s past saving,” he declared. “She lies too low in the water to be towed into port, and she’d go to pieces, anyway, before she got there. It’s only because she has a cargo of lumber that she’s kept afloat as long as she has. As it is, she’s breaking up fast. She’s an old boat and her timbers are rotten, while her engines are a mass of junk. It’s a wonder the old tub has been able to keep afloat until now. When she’ll finally go under though, I can’t say. It may be a day, and it may be a week. Depends a good deal on the weather. But while she’s above the water she’s a menace to shipping. A vessel that plowed into her at night wouldn’t have a Chinaman’s chance.”
“Your recommendation, then, from what you’ve seen?” said the captain inquiringly.
“Would be to blow her up,” replied the lieutenant, promptly.
CHAPTER XIV
BLOWN TO BITS
Captain Springer pondered the matter carefully.
“We’ll stand by for a little while,” he concluded, as he turned toward the wireless room. “I’ll get in communication by radio with the Department in Washington and send them the substance of your report. They can then decide what they want us to do. And while we’re waiting for their reply, we’ll get in touch with other ships and the nearest shore stations, and find out if there’s any news of the crew. If they’ve been picked up, well and good. If nothing has been heard of them, we’ll cruise about in these waters and try to find them.”
He was moving away, when he stopped short as he caught sight of Hector.