“There must be some provision for that,” asserted Jerry. “The steam steering gear might go out of commission at any time—in fact, I’ve often read of that happening on vessels. And when it does happen don’t they have to steer by hand?”
“Yes,” admitted the sailor, “I suppose they do. We’ll have a look in the morning and see what we can do. Just now I think we’d better all take it easy.”
“Sure!” agreed Jerry. “We’ve had a hard time. I only hope poor old Ned is as well off as we are just now.”
“I fancy he’s better off in case he’s still on the transport, as he must be,” said Bob.
“He will be if he doesn’t fall too much under the influence of that nincompoop, Dr. Hallet!” suddenly exclaimed Professor Snodgrass.
Jerry and Bob started, looked at one another, and then at the little scientist who was busy making notes about the queer crab and other creatures he had found in the seaweed.
“Who is this Dr. Hallet?” asked Jerry. “You spoke of him once before. Is he the little man I had the trouble with in the restaurant, and who tried to blow up the Sherman?”
“Blow up the troopship!” cried the professor. “Why, I never heard of that!”
“Didn’t you know that her engines were disabled by an explosion?” asked Bob.
The professor shook his head.