[CHAPTER XII]
THE DRIFTING BOAT
“Queer yarn that sailor told; wasn’t it,” remarked Ned, when the Comet had soared aloft, leaving the wreck of the Hassen below on the heaving billows.
“It was that,” agreed Jerry, “but it’s mighty lucky we found the ship, and met him. Otherwise we wouldn’t have known where to look for the small boat.”
“As it is it’s going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack,” commented Bob. “I don’t believe we’ll ever find them. Or, if we do, it will be—too late!”
“Quit giving us such a correct imitation of gloom and despair,” exclaimed Jerry. “Go cook something, Chunky, and you’ll feel better.”
“I guess I will,” agreed the stout lad, with a smile. “I’m hungry.”
“So am I,” admitted Ned. “We all are. Get up a good meal, Chunky. It will do us all good!”
It was getting late in the afternoon, for they had spent more time aboard the wreck than they realized. Now they were on the go once more, seeking the small boat containing Mr. Sheldon and his daughter.