“I can’t get in touch with them at all,” he said. “I can’t even raise a station that’s seen them passing over.”
The captain passed a bewildered hand across his forehead.
“What under the heavens are we to do?” he said. “I’ve appealed to those dirigible fellows in vain. They’ve all got one excuse or another to offer. I guess, though, the main trouble with them is ‘cold feet’ to put it into plain English.”
“And in the meantime those poor fellows on the Sky Eagle may be drifting helplessly over the ocean,” said Jack.
“Yes, and the worst of it is that their wireless appears to be out of order. If that was working they could summon help from some ship. But as it is——”
The captain broke off despairingly. He gazed up at the sky as if seeking inspiration there and then down at the ground. But he remained as perplexed as before.
In the meantime Jack and his companions had been holding an eager consultation. As the captain turned to Hutchings for the twentieth time with a demand to know if he had heard anything yet, Jack stepped forward.
“Captain,” he said, “I guess that we can help you out.”
“What do you mean, boy?”