“That was our only hope for Tommy and the others. Some jumped after we did, and might have come down nearer that island. Pete and I started paddling in that direction, but we’d both been hurt and the distances were deceiving. My cracked leg had begun to swell, and any movement was agony. Pete checked out clean for a spell, and I was afraid he was gone. Before we realized what had happened the island was nowhere to be seen.”
Nancy smoothed out his sheet, and sat silent. After a moment she said, “Bruce, when you draw that map of the islands write down the names of all Tommy’s crew and the positions they held.”
“Now why do you want that?”
“I may run across some of the others somewhere. Maybe someone was nearer Tommy when he ditched and will know what became of him.”
“Now don’t you go getting your hopes up, Nancy. There’s not a chance in a hundred that any of the others will turn up.”
“You do what I ask anyhow,” persisted Nancy. “When I get home I’ll write to the families of all the crew and tell them what I know. Even though there may be no hope, it’s some comfort to know the details.”
“I suppose that would give our relatives some satisfaction,” Bruce admitted. “I’ve been so full of my own woes since I got back I haven’t thought of the folks back home wanting to hear about the others.”
“Who in your condition wouldn’t be preoccupied with his own woes?” asked Nancy understandingly. “But we’re going to have you on your feet again before too long.”
Nancy did all in her power to speed Bruce’s recovery in the weeks that followed. She felt a real personal pride in his improvement. At last there came a day when he was able to walk to the recreation room with only the aid of a stick and her arm. The nurses had fixed up this room for the use of convalescing patients.
“I mustn’t get well too fast,” Bruce said with a twinkle in his nice gray eyes, “or they’ll be sending me away from here.”