The minutes dragged along, until half an hour had gone. Even Paul began to show signs of restlessness. He finally made a megaphone of his hands, and called to Bobolink:
"Tell Jack to step up; I'd like to ask him a question or two."
"Ay, ay, sir," replied the other, touching his forelock in true man-o'-war style, and immediately the head of Jack appeared.
"What's the good word, Jack?" asked the Commodore of the expedition. "Can you make the mend, d'ye think; and just about how long is it going to take you?"
"Between five and ten minutes, not more," came the reply; "I've got the hang of it now, and the end's in sight."
"Whoopee! that sounds good to me!" shouted Gusty Bellows, waving his hat.
Five minutes had hardly passed before they heard the familiar pop-pop-pop of the Speedwell's motor exhaust.
"How is it?" called Paul once more.
"Fine and dandy," answered Bobolink, waving his bugle; and giving a few vigorous blasts to indicate that victory was nigh.
"They're hauling in the anchor, which is a good sign," declared Nuthin.