“Is this the Altaire?” asked Bob.
“Yes.”
“Then it’s her life raft that helped save us,” said the sailor. “Things are sure turning out queer!”
Jerry led them below, and they soon all changed to dry garments, which had the additional merit of being warm, though not much could be said for the fit—especially in the case of Professor Snodgrass, whose small form was not built to fill out the rather roomy garments of seamen.
But they all made the best of it, and their spirits rose as they saw how snug and comfortable they could be on the craft of which Jerry had been in lone command for a while.
“And, now that we feel pretty certain Ned is all right, we can begin to take it a bit easier,” sighed Bob. “You said you had plenty to eat, Jerry?”
“Yes, even for you, Chunky,” and the tall lad smiled for the first time since the crash. “Come on down and I’ll show you.”
Bob’s eyes opened with pleasure when he saw the larder. There was plenty for the four refugees for many weeks, even though the Germans, or perhaps the hastily departing crew and passengers, had well supplied themselves.
“It isn’t too early to eat, is it?” asked Bob, as he looked at the packages and cans of food.