“Yes, it’s there yet,” agreed Ned. “I’m sure it’s a whale!”
“But why doesn’t it spout?” demanded Bob, who had asked that question before. “Then we’d be sure of it. I thought whales had to spout every ten minutes or so, and that one’s been in sight about that time.”
“You’re off on your natural history, Bob,” said Jerry, with a smile. “Whales don’t have to spout oftener than a half-hour. And besides, that’s only when they’ve been swimming under water. This one is on the surface, running awash, you might say, and so doesn’t have to send out a long breath that it’s been holding in a long while. It can breathe naturally.”
“That’s it! I’m never right,” grumbled Bob, whose stout form and good-natured face did not fit well with the scowl with which he regarded his chum. “I guess I know as much about whales as you do, Jerry Hopkins!”
“That isn’t much,” admitted Jerry, frankly. “I don’t claim to be an authority, but I’m sure a whale on the surface doesn’t have to spout—at least, not very often.”
“Are you sure it is a whale?” asked Ned quietly, and there was something in the tone of his voice that caused his companions to look quickly at him. “Why don’t we go lower down so we can have a better look at it. Then we could make certain.”
“I guess that would be the best plan,” admitted Jerry. “We can drop to within a few feet of the surface and——”
“Don’t go too close!” interrupted Bob. “It looks to me like a storm. We may get a squall any minute, and if we go too low down we may not be able to rise quickly enough. I don’t want to see the good old Comet come to grief.”
“Neither do I,” responded Jerry. “But I guess we’ve done harder stunts than that. Get ready to let her down, Ned. See if the rudder planes are all clear.”