"Sweep your glasses over the ocean, Carl!" called Matt. "See if you can see a ship. There ought to be vessels crossing the straits between Florida and the islands, and there ought to be coasters moving north and south."
Dick whirled around. There was something in Matt's voice that startled him.
"Why do we want to look for a ship?" he demanded.
"Because the gas bag has sprung a leak," answered Matt, speaking as calmly as he could, "and we've got to find an island or a ship before very long."
Carl fell back against the rail and almost dropped the binoculars.
"Don't say dot!" he cried. "Himmelblitzen, Matt! Oof der gas goes oudt oof der palloon vat vill ve do? Durn aroundt und make for der Florida coast!"
"It's too far. The gas would be all out of the bag before we could get a quarter of the way back."
Carl looked up at the sagging envelope overhead, and then he stared down at the heaving waters below. With a shake of the shoulders, he picked up the glasses and got to his feet.
"It vas no use plubbering aroundt ofer vat can't be heluped," said he, gamely. "Oof ve haf got to find a ship, den py shinks ve vill findt vone."
"That's the talk, mate," approved Ferral, albeit in a voice that was a bit husky.