“Good,” exclaimed Mr. Jesson. “We’ll have something to eat and some hot coffee, and then we’ll try to get into communication with the shore, or some vessel, and get them to take us off this desolate place.”
But Jack, who had been looking about the island in their vicinity, dampened their enthusiasm by a sudden question.
“How are you going to fix an aerial?” he asked.
“Easy enough,” said Tom confidently; “some tree will do. Ned Bangs, here, can climb it. Luckily I loaded a lot of copper wire with the other stuff. We can use that for antenna.”
“Why, you monkey!” cried Jack, half laughing, “there isn’t a tree on the island.”
This fact, which none of them had noticed before, was evidently so. The island was covered with a scrub growth, but nowhere did the bushes exceed a height of ten feet.
Professor Chadwick broke in on their dejection.
“Come,” he said, “it’s no use our discussing anything now. Let us have a good meal and then, maybe, we’ll hit upon some plan.”
While Jupe made his preparations for a warm meal, selecting a spot sheltered by brush not far from the remains of the Flying Road Racer, the boys gathered driftwood, of which there seemed to be plenty on the beach, and made a big pile of it. This was lighted, and the warmth of the blaze proved very comforting to the chilled castaways.
As Professor Chadwick had predicted, the meal served to put new heart into them. As they ate they discussed their situation in all its bearings, but without arriving at any conclusion as to their future course.