“We have the whole place to ourselves,” remarked Jerry, grimly joking as he viewed the waste of waters.
“Yes, it isn’t a bit crowded,” agreed Bob. “Well, let’s have breakfast.”
In one sense the plight of the castaways was not at all bad. They had shelter, plenty of food, the weather was ideal, now that the fog had gone, and they were again clothed in their own garments which had dried out. Nor was there any great immediate danger. The period of long-continued storms had not yet come, their derelict, disabled as she was, was in fairly staunch condition, and unless some accident happened she might float for a long time.
“But we’ve got to get sail on her,” decided Jerry after a breakfast which was cooked by Bob and of which every one had an ample portion.
With the aid and advice of Judd something resembling a sail was hoisted and then the hand steering gear was connected up, after a fashion.
“Now we’re on our way!” cried Jerry, when the derelict began to move with considerable speed compared to her former progress. The wind was west, and was blowing them back toward France. But this was the best they could hope for. They could only sail directly before such breezes as might favor them. Navigation was out of the question.
So they settled down for a stay, of how long they knew not, on the derelict. Jerry had not had time to explore the craft much before the arrival of his friends, and this lack was now made up for, once the sail was set. It was found that the Altaire had sailed from New York with a general cargo consigned to various English firms. And it was evident that she had been intercepted and partly looted by a German submarine. What had become of her crew and her passengers, if she carried any (and there were accommodations for a few) was problematical. But the Altaire made a good sea home for the refugees.
While Bob, Jerry, Professor Snodgrass, and Judd were thus making the best of it on the derelict and eagerly watching for some vessel that might rescue them, Ned Slade and his fellow voyagers on the Sherman were buoyed up with new hope as the word went cheeringly through the craft that the wireless was again working.
The snapping sparks of it had interrupted the talk between Ned and Dr. Hallet, and it was some time before they had a chance to renew the conversation.
For as soon as it became known that signals could again be sent out, giving the position of the disabled troopship and asking that aid be rushed, that was the only topic of moment among all on board.