Screws were tightened and several other minor matters remedied. Then Sharley signaled the pilot house that he was going to try her again. Having tested his batteries with the buzzer, and adjusted the timer, he turned on the gasoline and slowly opened the throttle.
There was no response.
Sharley repeated the operation several times without getting the desired explosion. Then he retested the batteries with the buzzer and adjusted the carburetor, discovering that the gasoline had not been turned on at that point—or, at least, had been turned off after the trouble started. More cranking followed, but without success.
The Nautilus was now drifting in toward the shore, and a peep through a porthole told Sharley that he would be upon the sands of Rockaway if something were not done soon.
“Told you she ought to have a sail equipment for emergencies,” he said to Mr. Ronald.
“Yes; you told me—that’s not your fault. The question now is, what are we going to do?”
“Nothing that I can see but throw out our anchor. Ain’t more than twenty feet of water here, and she’s growing less all the time.”
“But I can’t throw out the anchor without alarming the ladies.”
“Have to alarm ’em, then, I guess. That’s better than going aground and paying somebody salvage to get you off, eh, Mr. Ronald?” and the engineer laughed.
Mr. Ronald admitted the force of the statement, then went on deck to break the news to his guests.