Matt explained, and Townsend watched Dick as he dipped the stars and stripes that always flew from the rear end of the car.
"We've got to keep pegging along, night and day," said Townsend, "until we reach the island. After that we can take things a little easier."
"If there's no timber on the island," spoke up Dick, "how are we going to moor the Hawk? The island's so small that we'll have our hands full keeping the air ship from being blown out to sea."
"In a pinch," suggested Matt, "we can fill that canvas covering for the Hawk with sand and tie the craft to it."
"Sandbags would be better, if we had them," remarked Townsend. "Prop me up a little, Carl," he added, to the Dutch boy; "I want to do some writing."
Carl bolstered Townsend up with one of the boxes of provisions, and the injured man put in an hour of pencil work on the back of an old letter. By then it was evident that his ankle was paining him again, and he put away the pencil and the results of his labor, had the box removed and laid flat down in the car. Presently he was asleep. Dick came aft along the rail for a few words with Matt.
"We'll never be able to take Townsend to the island, matey," said Dick, in a low tone. "It's my opinion that he's worse off than he thinks he is. That don't look to me like a sprain, but like a break."
Matt nodded glumly.
"It's hard luck, Dick," he answered, "but I'm of your opinion. Still, what can we do? Townsend has chartered the Hawk for two weeks, and we're under his orders. If he insists that we stay aloft with him and take him to Turtle Key, we'll have to try it."
"I guess you've nicked it. We're under orders, as you say, and we've got to do just what Townsend tells us, but I'll be keelhauled if the prospect ain't discouraging. We're out to win that five thousand, and I guess we can do it, but I'd like mighty well to help Townsend and not stand by and see him spend his money without getting a fair return for it."