It was so with the motor boys. Of course there was a certain element of luck, or chance, in their quest, as there is in anything in this world, but after Bob’s fine spread they felt that luck was going to be even more with them in the future than it had been in the past.
“Are you going to navigate to-night, or just drift about, Jerry?” asked Ned, as the tall lad went to the pilot house.
“I think we’ll drift. If we sail we might lose too much ground and have to come back over it in the morning. If what the old sailor thought was true—that Mr. Sheldon has no oars in his boat—he can’t make any progress himself. He’ll just have to drift about, at the mercy of the wind and ocean currents.
“Now the wind that blows him will also blow us, so we will be able to go in the same direction. Of course we can’t count on the ocean currents, but we’ll just have to take a chance on them. So I think we’ll keep ourselves up as a dirigible balloon, and only use the propellers if we find the wind is getting too strong for us.”
Jerry’s chums agreed with this line of reasoning. There was no need to appeal to Professor Snodgrass. He was interested only in his collection of bugs, and unless there was actual need of his services he seldom took any share in navigating the Comet. Just then he was busy trying to capture a little hopping insect he had seen on the deck.
“Look out!” suddenly cried Ned, as he saw the little scientist make a grab for the bug in question. This was on the after deck, around which was only a light railing, with spaces here and there to minimize the air pressure. The spaces were large enough for a man to slip through, and the professor was in imminent danger of doing this as he made a dart for the specimen.
Ned, alive to the risk Mr. Snodgrass was taking, slid toward him, and grabbed him by the feet. It was only just in time, too, for the professor might easily have gone overboard, falling a thousand feet into the sea below.
“Ah, I have him! The beauty!” cried the little bald-headed man, as he peered between his fingers at something held in his hand. “I have the prize!”
“And I have you!” panted Ned. “Do you realize that you nearly went overboard?”
“No! Did I really?” asked Mr. Snodgrass. “It was very good of you to catch me. I just couldn’t let that prize get away. It is a very rare specimen of a pink flea.”