Dick Hamilton's Steam Yacht.
"Now," suggested Dick, as they finished, and wished for more, "we will take an account of stock, and see what's next to be done."
"The bower or bungalow, or whatever you're going to call it, isn't quite finished," said Tim Muldoon.
"It won't take long," was Widdy's opinion; so they all set to work on that, and soon had a fairly good shelter constructed; one that would keep out the cold, and damp night winds.
"Next is the food supply," went on Dick, and when they looked over what the kidnappers had left with Miguel Valdez there were anxious looks on every face, for the quantity was barely sufficient to last them a week.
"There's only one thing to do," declared Dick, grimly, "we will have to go on short rations until we are rescued, or until we can get away from this place."
"And when will that be?" asked Beeby, nervously.
"How about it, Widdy?" inquired Dick of the old sailor; "are any vessels likely to pass this way?"
"Not many," was the response. "We're out of the track of most vessels, though, of course, there's always the chance of a tramp steamer seein' our signals. As the flagpoles are on both sides of the island, they can hardly miss 'em."