And she was right. A moment later, as they dragged the all but senseless form from the seaplane, they recognized him at once as the millionaire's son.
He had drifted in the benumbing water so long that had they been delayed for another hour they would have found nothing more than a corpse awaiting them.
As Curlie tore Vincent's sodden outer garments from him he saw the girl carefully unrolling the blankets and oiled covering from about her. He did not protest. To him the thought of seeing this girl half drowned and chilled through by the spray which even now at times dashed over the raft, was heartbreaking, but he knew it was necessary if the life of her brother was to be saved.
"Brave girl!" he murmured as he wrapped Vincent in the coverings and passed him on to the skipper.
"And now," he said, "the time has come to think of other things. I believe the waves have sufficiently subsided to enable us to dare it."
He fumbled once more at the raft, at last to bring up a long, post-shaped affair.
"More rations," murmured Joe, swallowing his last bite of hardtack; "a regular commissary. But why get them out at this time?"
"You wait," smiled Curlie.
He was standing up. After telling Joe to steady him, he began tearing away at the upper end of the mysterious package. In a moment, he took out some limp, rubber affairs.
"Toy balloons," jeered Joe.