“I don’t see how. We couldn’t attack them before they had done us any harm.”
“No, we couldn’t, but there may be a way to stop them. Time enough to think about that once they come in sight.”
“And then there’re those chaps who claim the wreck belongs to them.” Johnny’s gaze wandered far out to sea, as if he expected to catch sight of a coil of smoke drifting there. “If they weathered the storm, they’ll soon be down upon us.”
“Can’t do anything about that, either, until it happens,” said Pant.
“All right then, we’ll take up the search. I fancy the Professor will want to be one of the searching party. Will you stay with the camp, or shall I?”
“I’ll stay.”
“Say,” said Pant, a moment later, “it’s funny about that razor he found!”
“Yes, it is. Probably his brother had it on board, and this sailor, or whoever he is, this survivor, took it off and has been using it.”
“Maybe so,” said Pant in a skeptical tone of voice. “Seamen are very superstitious about razors belonging to dead men, though.” If he thought any further along that line, he at least said no more about it at that time.
Several hours later, just as the two searchers were returning from a long and fruitless tramp over the island, and were being cheered by the odor of coffee boiling over an open fire, Pant suddenly pointed to the open sea.