DIRIGIBLE VS. AEROPLANE.
A galvanic shock passed through the boy at the discovery, and he silently crawled to where Harry and Ben lay and placing his hand over their mouths he in turn awoke them.
"Don't utter a word," he whispered, "Luther Barr's air-ship is here."
From the spot in which they crouched, keeping as closely in the shadow of the stout mast as they were able, the adventurers could hear distinctly the conversation of the men in the dirigible.
"This must be the galleon," Frank heard a voice he recognized as
Sanborn's saying, "it's lucky we decided to keep on."
"Well, we might as well have turned back for all the good we can do now," came another voice—that of Malvoise. "I'm not going to run a chance of wrecking the ship by making a landing in the dark."
"What, you are not going to descend?" came Sanborn's voice in a querulous tone.
"Not much," was the rejoinder. "What's the use of risking our necks and taking a chance on smashing up the air-ship. If she is damaged we would be stranded here and leave our bones in the Sargasso in all probability."
"That's so," chimed in another voice—that of the inventor Constantio. "It would be very dangerous, senor, to make a landing to-night. Let us go back to the island and start out to-morrow again."
The boys exchanged glances. So the Barr party had encamped on an island; doubtless one of the numerous little keys that abound in those waters and which, had they water on them—which few have—are ideal spots.