He grunted. "Temporarily that will do. Later it must be covered with metal."
DuChane winked at Sally. "Anchors aweigh!" he sang. "Heave ho and a bottle of rum! Stand by for the good ship Thornboldt. But look here, Eli, what about the eight?"
"Eh?"
"Seems to me Pearl predicted we'd make our start when there were four men, four gals, beside yourself. According to my reckoning, it doesn't count out."
"You ask me to take stock in such superstition? Am I a scientist or a Hottentot?"
Another lurch caused them all to grasp at near objects for support.
"What makes it do that?" demanded Sally, nervously. "Ever since we climbed in it's been acting like a horse with the heaves."
"It's the sphere turning and settling," DuChane informed her. His arm encircled her waist and she struggled—though not too violently, Marlin thought—to break away. "Notice the floor's tilting? Won't be long before it stands straight up."
"Four and four," muttered the Dane into his beard. "There should be eight instead of seven. Where is that girl?"
Catching a glimpse of Pearl in the tool enclosure, he strode toward it.