He had now lost all track of time. Steve sat down to think matters over calmly. His position was a serious one and he understood that full well.
"If I remain here another day I shall be unable to get away," he mused. "Then I shall in all probability starve to death. That won't do. I don't propose to give up as long as I have any strength left in me, and I guess I have a little, even after what I have passed through."
Rush sat studying the narrow stretch of water separating him from the slender neck of land that he had observed the day before.
"It can't be more than three miles across there. If I had had a good meal this morning I believe I could swim across to the other shore. That looks to me like the mainland. There is surely something on beyond there several miles away. I wonder if I dare try to swim it?"
A little reflection convinced the lad that such an attempt could end but one way—he would drown before he reached the neck of land.
His eyes roved about, after a while resting reflectively on the piece of deck-house door that had served his purpose so well after the sinking of the steamer. A look of new-found intelligence gradually grew in his eyes.
"The very thing! Hurrah!" he cried, springing up and dancing about, forgetful for the moment, that he needed all the strength he had left. "I swam on the door all night. Surely I can stand a few hours more on it in the bright sunlight. Why didn't I think of it before?"
Rush lost no time in acting upon the suggestion that had come to him. He grabbed up the cabin door and began staggering down the rocks with it. The door was heavy and he was weak. Once he stumbled and fell. The door went clattering down over the rocks, Steve bringing up in a heap some distance above it.
"There, I'll bet it's broken. If it is I'm done for."
But the door was not broken. It was tough enough to stand the hard usage to which it had been subjected. Steve was after it with a shout as soon as he saw that it had not been split.