"Yes, and there is some stuff there for us that came in during the night," Carew answered. "But I doubt whether our elevator will get here before tomorrow. However, there isn't any real rush, and I think we did the right thing in deciding to risk that delay in order to have that light copper binding put on. The stress of a sudden storm may prove its value."
"Sure," Donald supplemented. "No room for argument about that. But we don't want to let any other crew get the jump on us at that. There's an awful lot of satisfaction in being the first off, or at least to be among the first."
"I don't think any other crew will be able to make a get-away before we are ready," Jack assured them. "Why, I was talking to a native a while ago on that very subject. He doesn't pretend to know anything about aeronautics. He's been a whaler all his life. But he does set himself up as something of a weather sharp, and after having listened to him for quite a time I'm more than half inclined to believe that he knows what he is talking about. Weather prognostications seem to be a natural instinct with whalers, you know, and with this fellow you might call it a sixth sense."
"Well, what did he say?" Don interrupted.
"That we wouldn't get away before the end of this week, anyway, and likely not until the middle of next, if then," Jack finished.
"Yes," said Andy, "the mud's so deep in front of two of the hangars that there isn't a chance of running the machines out until it has dried off a great deal."
"Well, the ham and eggs being gone, I'm through," interjected Fred. "Let's all hustle down to the dee-po and see what Santa Claus left us during the night. I'm anxious to get our craft together, and particularly to make some necessary final tests with the radio apparatus."
"Right!" agreed Jack, surveying the table rather ruefully and becoming convinced that Fred was right about there being no more ham and eggs. "And don't make any mistakes about that wireless, either, Fred," he continued, as they all shoved back their chairs. "I've got all sorts of confidence in our plane, but nevertheless it would be nice to realize that we could let the world at large know our approximate whereabouts in case we should come down in old Father Neptune's lap, somewhere in about the dead center of the Atlantic."