“Is there an island any where near here where men could live for a time?”
“What do you mean?” asked the scientist. “Do you want us to desert the ship and leave these scoundrels in charge?”
“Nothing of the sort,” replied the mate, who, had said his name was Jack Rodgers. “But first answer my question. A great deal may depend on it.”
Seeing Rodgers was in earnest, the professor looked over some maps and charts, and announced that they were within a few hundred miles of a group of islands.
“When would we reach them?” was Rodgers’ next question.
Mr. Henderson made a few rapid calculations on a piece of paper.
“At the present rate of sailing,” he said, “we should be there about ten o’clock to-morrow. That is, provided the ship does not slacken speed or increase it.”
“There is no danger of either of those two things happening,” said the mate. “Tony is too afraid of the machinery to do anything to it. So you may safely figure that our speed will continue the same.”
“Then I can guarantee, with all reasonable certainty,” the professor said, “that about ten o’clock to-morrow we will be less than a mile from the islands. They are a group where friendly natives live, and where many tropical fruits abound. One could scarcely select a better place to be shipwrecked. But I hope the plans of Tony and his friends do not include landing us there.”
“No, nothing like that,” the mate answered. “Quite the contrary. But I had better be going. I will try and see Mark some time to-morrow. Tony does not mind when I speak to him.”