They were beneath one of the machine’s great wings. Reaching up, he swung himself to the upper surface, and disappeared into the dark.
“Dangerous business,” he muttered to himself. “May have heard that bump, those fellows. May see my light. Might come upon us here any minute, but it’s a chance you can’t pass up.”
By dropping here, climbing there, then moving over to the right, he reached one of the twin motors. There, after flashing his light for a moment, he put out a hand, fumbled about, then pocketed a small object. These actions were repeated when he reached the second motor.
After that, with a sigh of relief, he dropped back upon the raft.
“Fix ’em!” he muttered. “Fix ’em plenty, the dirty dogs!
“Now come on. Let’s get out of here quick! Wish we could take one of those pontoons for a boat; but that’s impossible.”
A cloud had gone over the moon. He felt the girl’s cold hand as she steadied him down to a safe place of balance on the raft, and he chided himself for being so long.
“Cabins,” he whispered. “Cabins with fireplaces, easy chairs, blankets, and things to eat.”
All this seemed very, very far away. And yet with youth “hope springs eternal.”
Once again they worked their imperfect oars. In a surprisingly short time they once more bumped. With a low cry of hope, the girl sprang ashore.