"Just as long as there seems to be the slightest chance of our striking those we're looking for, or we can see shore with the glasses. I, for one, would never be satisfied to give up, and then later on feel that we might have found them if we'd only kept out another mile or two."
"My sentiments, exactly," declared Will, who possessed a tender heart, as his chums knew from experience.
So the time crept on.
Frank was bending above the motor, but all the while he kept one eye over his shoulder on the bow of the boat where his chum stood, still sweeping the sea ahead with the marine glasses.
In fact, every one aboard seemed to have his gaze focussed on Jerry by this time, as though he might be the one to decide whether the hunt had better be abandoned right then and there, or kept up still longer.
And Frank almost held his breath awaiting the verdict.
Suddenly he saw Jerry start, and screw the glasses more eagerly to his eyes, as he craned his neck to see the better. With the increasing wind the waves had commenced to rise a little, consequently any floating object might at times be difficult to discern.
"I had a glimpse of something then, fellows! But, after all, it might have been another bunch of old pelicans!" he exclaimed.
"Not that. Pelicans would not be so far out. They hug pretty close to the shore, where the water is more shallow, and the fish come in to feed. Still, it may have been the fin of a shark cutting the water like that one—" started Frank, when Jerry interrupted him:
"There it is again! As sure as you live, I believe it's a man clinging to some sort of wreckage! Here, take the glasses, Frank! Right over there, dead ahead! Now be ready! There! See?"