“Well, here goes for another try,” said Dray.
“That’s right. Maybe the machine has just been giving us a try-out,” suggested Ed. “We certainly have said mean things about you, old Mote!” he went on sarcastically. “Kindly forgive us and go. ‘See by moonlight ’tis ’most midnight, time boat and us were home hour-and-a-half ago,’” he said, quoting from the old nursery rhyme.
But the motor only coughed and sighed and wheezed like an old man with the asthma, and the boat still drifted.
They called, they blew on the compressed air whistle until all the reserve supply of oxygen was exhausted from the tank, and then they had to resort to their voices again.
“Well, there’s one thing left,” answered Jack, tragically.
“What is it?” begged Ed.
“We can swim for it. That’s better than being carried out to sea. Let’s swim before it is too late.”
“That’s what I say!” exclaimed Dray. “Let the Dixie go—she’s no good!”
The others were considering Jack’s startling proposal, when Ed looked up, and exclaimed:
“Hark! Don’t you hear something?”