The motors were again started, only to be shut off five minutes later. Then they began the delightful circling journey which was to bring them to a safe harbor and their goal. This time there was no trying uncertainty; there was still fuel in their tank and they knew something of the place to which they were coming.
“I hope we don’t have to.”
“We’ll go back and try for some sweet potatoes in the morning. I think perhaps I’ll find another use for the rice.”
“What?”
Pant did not answer. “Funny bunch, those brown boys,” he mused. “Don’t savvy English, but they know Uncle Sam’s money, all right. It’s that way all over the world.”
The island was very narrow. They soon found themselves on the beach facing the bay where the “Dust Eater,” as they called the seaplane, was anchored.
It was decided that they should take turns at the watch, three hours to the watch. This would give each of them six hours of sleep and fit them for whatever of fortune or misfortune lay in their immediate future.
The Professor took the first watch, Pant the second. Pant had hardly begun to pace the beach on his watch when there sounded across the waters the quick pop-pop-pop of a motor. His first thought was of the “Dust Eater,” but immediately he laughed at his fears; the popping was made by a much less powerful motor than those belonging to their seaplane.
The sound came from toward the south end of the island. Racing down the beach, tripping over sand-brush and bits of drift here and there, he managed to arrive in time to see the tail-light of a motorboat fast disappearing out on the sea.
“The Orientals and their men!” he exclaimed disgustedly. “It was stupid of us not to keep track of them. They might have given us a lift to the very island we’re bound for. We were too played out to think clearly, though, and now they’re gone.”