Dick's eyes were on the air ship. Something about the Hawk was claiming his attention.
Matt, swerving his gaze in the direction of the air ship, was surprised to see her still hanging in the air with the wind slowly wafting her shoreward. For a moment Matt was puzzled, then it flashed over him that there was enough gas in the upper point of the cigar-shaped envelope to keep the empty car and the bag out of the water.
Matt gained the shore and sank down on the sand beside Dick and Carl.
"How do you explain that, matey?" queried Dick.
"Why," answered Matt, "there's enough gas in the point of the bag, above the hole, to keep the fabric aloft. Had we stayed in the car we'd have brought the air ship down into the water. I was afraid the Hawk was lost to us, but now we'll be able to save her, and without injury to the motor. When she gets close enough, we'll catch hold of the car and pull her down."
"Vat good vill it do to safe der air ship, Matt?" asked Carl, lugubriously. "Meppy ve could patch oop der hole, but vere ve going to ged some more gas to fill der pag oop again?"
"We can't get away from this island in the Hawk," returned Matt, "but some ship may come along and pick us up. In that event, we'll be able to take the Hawk away with us. We've got too much money wrapped up in that machine to leave it here on this island."
"Right-o!" exclaimed Dick. "Not only is the Hawk saving herself for us, but she's bringing ashore our supplies. And it's a cinch we're going to need those supplies, mates. I'm a Fiji if I think there's anything but turtles here to eat."
By that time the air ship had drifted over the beach. By running up the slope leading down to the beach, the boys were able to grasp the lower end of the car, and they easily hauled it to the ground. This move caused most of the gas that still remained in the bag to escape, and the envelope flattened itself out in the sand, twisting and writhing as the last of the gas worked its way out.