“All aboard!” replied Ned, tossing his kit into the boat.
Harry pitched the luggage he was carrying to waiting hands. Both boys then watched for an opportune moment when the small boat swung close to the sinking stern. A quick leap carried them safely aboard.
“Oh, I forgot!” cried Ned. “I was going to bring the compass!”
“Never mind the compass now, Ned!” cried Jimmie, seizing an oar.
“No,” put in Frank, “we don’t know where we are at anyhow, and the compass wouldn’t be of any use to us in such a case as this!”
“Goodby, Lena Garlic!” shouted Jimmie a moment later as he pulled manfully at the oar. “Goodby and good luck!”
The others turned to see the schooner now with decks awash. A loud detonation marked the blowing off of the hatches by the compressed air in the hold. That incident seemed to mark the passage of the vessel.
Gradually settling by the stern the schooner quietly slipped backward, settling deeper and deeper, until a large wave overwhelmed the craft, leaving only the masts projecting above water. In another instant these, too, had disappeared, leaving but a few floating pieces of wreckage to mark the spot where the boys had only a short time before been standing.
“And goodby, Grey Eagle!” almost sobbed Ned. “No more flying in that little airship! I wish we could have saved the machine!”
This seemed to be the sentiment of all, but they knew that their sturdy aeroplane was now gone forever.