“What is it?” asked the doctor, for the Motor Boy seemed to be listening intently. “What is it?”
“Our wireless!” exclaimed Ned. “It’s working again! Now they can call for help! Hurray! Our troubles are over!”
[CHAPTER XXVIII]
THE SEARCH
Standing on the sloping deck of the Altaire, sloping from a slight list the vessel had assumed because of a shift of the cargo, Jerry Hopkins and his fellow refugees stood for a moment looking at the strange and wonderful sight of the school of whales attacking the ship. Or, if not attacking, at least trying to ascertain by bumps of their huge heads the character of the strange creature in their midst. And as Jerry’s shout to use the bow gun rang out, there came another tremor of the vessel, caused by what seemed the hardest blow yet delivered.
“We’ve got to scare ’em off or kill some of ’em!” cried Jerry. “They may not intend any harm, but if they open some of our plates we’ll go down, sure!”
“What do you mean by the bow gun?” asked Bob.
“There’s a small gun up forward, put there to ward off submarine attacks, but it doesn’t seem to have done much good,” explained Jerry quickly. “It’s mounted on a swivel, and we can depress it and aim it in almost any direction. There are some shells too. I saw them when I was looking about before you came on board. If we give the whales a shot or two I’m sure they’ll go away.”
“We’ve got to do something!” muttered Bob. “Feel that!”