"This isn't a twenty-five-cent proposition," Benson remarked.
"In fact, all the money on earth won't save us this time!"
CHAPTER XI
A QUARTER'S WORTH OF HOPE
"Until some one can think of something else, I'm going to keep on trying the hopeless thing and endeavoring to make this old, thin plate work," declared Hal Hastings, who was still bent over the motor, studying it intently.
Benson had turned back to examine the work, after tossing the coin away, but just as suddenly he glanced forward again.
At the extreme forward end of the engine room of the "Dodger" was another bench. Here were a vise and other heavier tools. On the floor under this bench were stowed many mechanical odds and ends—-pieces of wood, coils of rope, even a bundle of tent-pegs, though nothing was visible of a metallic nature.
"You fellows keep at work," Jack Benson shot back suddenly over his shoulder.
"Where you going?" demanded Eph.
"Forward."
That much was evident, but Jack was now down on hands and knees carefully yet feverishly moving the wooden articles, cordage and such things from under the forward bench.