“I’ve found the Sherman!” cried Jerry aloud. “On board the transport!” he yelled. “Throw me a line!”
Nothing but silence greeted him. In growing wonder and fear he swam along the side of the craft. The waves rose and fell along it lazily, now raising, again lowering him.
What did it mean? Was the Sherman so badly damaged that she was sinking and had been abandoned? This could hardly have taken place so quickly. There would have been some boats remaining in the vicinity. But no, there was not a sign.
“Ahoy the Sherman!” yelled Jerry.
No answer. He swam along the side. He came upon a dangling rope, and, by the exercise of his last-remaining strength, he managed to reach the deck.
Then one look told him the story. It was a derelict that had crashed into the Sherman, and Jerry Hopkins was now aboard this waif of the sea.
[CHAPTER XVII]
NED WONDERS
When the crash had come Ned Slade felt himself thrown back against a deck stanchion, which he grasped desperately. In the instant of the collision, or so immediately following it as to make it seem simultaneous, he had observed a big hole torn in the side of the Sherman.