“If we don’t have some luck pretty soon, we’ll have to go back, I suppose,” remarked Ned gloomily.
“We have enough to eat for three weeks more,” put in Bob.
“Yes, trust you for that, Chunky; but how about gasolene and oil?”
“Oh, we have enough for another week, anyhow, and perhaps longer,” declared Jerry. “We’re not going to give up the search yet, Ned. We’ll find Mr. Jackson, and save your father’s business.”
“I hope so,” murmured the merchant’s son.
Professor Snodgrass had improved the time by getting out his net and dragging the sea for fish specimens. He caught several varieties, but none that he wanted. The singing flying-fish was not among those in his net.
He was about to pull it in, when he saw a long, dark shadow moving slowly along on the port side of the Comet. The professor knew the shape at once.
“Here, boys!” he called. “See this monster shark!”
It was indeed a large specimen of the tiger of the seas, and as it moved slowly along, its horrid eyes seeking some prey, the boys could not repress a shudder of fear.
“If he ever got after us!” exclaimed Bob. “Ugh! Excuse me!”