"What is it?" pleaded Madeline.
"Why, something—just—curious, Miss Dentry. We can't say what it is, as yet, but——"
They were all scrambling up the incline by this time and soon all eyes were directed upon the white speck. Mr. Cumberford focused his glasses upon the spot.
"Ah," said he presently; "this interests me; it does, indeed!"
"Is it a—a—tent?" inquired Steve, a catch in his voice.
"Looks like it," was the reply; "but not a regulation tent. Seems more like—like——Here, see for yourself, Steve."
Steve seized the binoculars.
"I think—it's—the—plane-cloth!" he gasped.
Mr. Tupper lost his balance and slid down the deck, landing with a thud against the opposite rail. That relieved the tension and a laugh—the first heard on the Salvador since she left port—greeted the gentleman's mishap.
"Why—if it's the plane-cloth, the girls are alive!" cried Madeline.