The experience through which the sailor had passed with Bob and the professor made him seem like an old friend, and Jerry and Bob were glad to have him call them by name, as though he had known them many years. In fact the nearness to a tragic end, which at one period confronted them all, seemed to squeeze a long time into a very few moments.
“Well then all we’ve got to do,” suggested Bob, “is to stay here, sleep and eat——”
“You haven’t forgotten the eats, Chunky!” laughed Jerry, and it was the first real merriment that had enlivened them since the accident.
“I’m glad you’ve got plenty in the kitchen,” said Bob, joining in the laugh at his own failing. “But what I meant was that we can’t really do anything, can we, to better ourselves any?”
“I don’t know,” replied Jerry, looking at the sailor. “I did think of hoisting some sort of sail, and now that you’re here maybe we can do that. Then we ought to rig up some sort of sea anchor to keep us head on to the waves in case of a blow. Outside of that I don’t know that we can do anything except to keep our distress signals flying.”
“Some sort of sail would be good,” agreed Judd; “and a sea anchor can be easy rigged up now that we have the life raft towing astern. There’s one trouble, though, about setting sail, provided we can do it.”
“What’s the trouble?” asked Bob.
“Well, if we get any steerageway on the craft at all, we may not be able to handle her.”
“Why not?” demanded Bob. “Her rudder is still in place. I noticed it when we were making fast the life raft.”
“Yes, her rudder is in place,” agreed the old salt, “and it only weighs several tons. It’s made to turn by steam, and with the engines dead there isn’t any steam. I doubt if we could manage to steer by hand.”