“I’m all twisted,” he admitted. “I don’t know which way we drifted after we were on the raft, and I don’t even know which way the transport drifted during the time we were fogbound. I suppose the officers did, but I never was much on navigation. However, we’ve got a sound bottom under us, that’s one blessing. She isn’t taking in any water, is she?” he asked Jerry.
“Not as far as I can tell,” was the answer. “She seems as sound as a dollar—one of Uncle Sam’s dollars,” he added. “But I wish I knew what we ought to do. Night is coming on, and it’s possible we may sight something or some craft sight us.”
“That’s right,” agreed Judd. “I see you have some signals hoisted,” and he looked at the wireless masts from which fluttered the flags Jerry had hoisted. “They’re all right during the day, now that the fog has lifted, but they won’t be any use at night.”
“There are some lanterns,” the tall lad said.
“Then we’ll hoist them,” suggested the sailor.
Eagerly they all looked around the horizon for a sight of the Sherman, or any craft that might aid them. But the sea heaved and rolled restlessly and void.