“Haven’t you had anything since you went overboard?” asked Jerry, with a smile.
“Oh, well, yes, we had a snack. But——”
“Fall in, Chunky! No, I don’t mean exactly that, either,” and Jerry laughed a little. “You’ve fallen in enough for to-day, and so have I. What I meant was ‘fall to’ and eat as much as you like. Then we’ll decide what’s best to be done.”
“I wonder if the professor wants anything?” mused Bob. “He didn’t eat much on the raft—too much taken up with his crab.”
“I’ll find out,” volunteered the tall lad.
As might have been expected, the little scientist declared that he could not find time to stop now to make a meal. He had managed to get hold of some blank paper, and, attired in a ship’s officer’s suit, many sizes too large for him, he was seated on deck poking through the bunch of seaweed and making notes of the different creatures he found.
“I’ll eat later,” he said. “I want to take advantage of the daylight while it lasts.”
“Thank goodness we have the sun for a change!” exclaimed Bob, as he looked around the horizon. “The fog is gone, and I hope it doesn’t come back. But where do you imagine the Sherman is, Jerry?”
“Haven’t the least idea,” was the answer. “Maybe the sailor can tell us.”
But the seaman was as much at sea, to use an appropriate term, as either of the boys.