Bob Baker and Professor Snodgrass struck the water at the same moment, and side by side. They plunged downward together and came up at the same time. And then, with seemingly the same thought, they both struck out for a bit of wreckage. They reached this—a jagged mass of wood which was large enough to partially support them in the water.

Bob was, because of his stoutness, rather fortunate in the water. He floated well, and he was by no means a bad swimmer. As for Professor Snodgrass, in spite of his preoccupation at times, he had mastered the art of keeping himself afloat in the water, and was really well able to look out for himself. So he had not much difficulty.

“Are you hurt, Professor?” gasped Bob, as soon as he had cleared his eyes and mouth of some of the salty water that had entered.

“I—I don’t seem to be,” gasped the little[141] scientist. “This was rather unfortunate, wasn’t it?”

“If you mean being tossed overboard, I’ll say it was,” replied Bob, hardly meaning his answer to take that army-slang phraseology. “But it’s lucky we found this bit of wreckage. It will keep us up, without our having to swim, for some time.”

“Oh, yes, that was lucky,” agreed the professor. “But what I meant was it’s too bad I didn’t get that bug when I had the chance. I refer to the one on the sailor. Very rare bug, that. I almost had it when the crash came. I wonder if he’ll be there when we get back?”

“The bug?” asked Bob, unable to restrain a smile.

“Well, the bug and the sailor. Those bugs cling, once they get fastened on a person or object. If that sailor hasn’t been tossed overboard, like ourselves, I may be able to get my specimen after all when we get back.”

“If we do get back,” put in Bob, as he took an easier position on the bit of wreckage and looked about him.

“Get back! Why shouldn’t we get back?” asked Professor Snodgrass. “All we’ve got to do is to cling here until they send a boat for us.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” half agreed Bob. “But if they can’t see to pick us up, and we drift much farther apart, why——”

[142]

He did not need to say more. The little scientist looked about and saw the white fog enveloping them. It was answer enough.

“This surely is unfortunate,” went on the little bald-headed man. “I need just that one bug to complete my collection, and if we don’t return soon some one else may get it.”

“Who’d want it?” asked Bob.

“Why Dr. Hallet, of course,” was the answer, as if there could be no other. “I’ve had to fight tooth and nail the last month to keep him from securing things that really belong to me. And now that I am in this unfortunate position he may get ahead of me. There is only one hope.”

“What’s that?” asked Bob. “Do you see a boat coming for us?”

“No. The hope I refer to is that the sailor on whom I saw that bug may remember that I have first claim to it. He may save it for me and not let Dr. Hallet get it.”

“Is Dr. Hallet on board?” asked Bob, beginning to get a glimmer of light on some matters that had puzzled him and his chums during the past few days.

“Well, he was at the time I left,” announced the professor. “But he, too, may have been tossed overboard as we were. If he was, I hope he doesn’t want to get aboard our present craft. There is hardly room for one more.”

[143]

“No, indeed,” agreed Bob. “But, say, Professor, we ought to do something.”

“Do what, Bob?”

“Shout and yell to let ’em know we’re out here. They’ll send a boat for us. Come on, yell!”

Accordingly they blended their voices, far from musically, but into what they hoped would prove to be an appeal for help. Whether it was effective or not they could not tell, as the fog shut them in like a great white blanket.

“If we could manage to propel our craft in the direction of the ship we might be saved sooner,” said Professor Snodgrass. “What do you imagine hit us, Bob?”

“Oh, some sort of ship—derelict, I imagine, because I didn’t hear any whistle before the crash. Ours was the only one going. It wasn’t an iceberg—I know that. I had a glimpse of something big looming up in front of me, then I heard and felt the crash, and—here we are!”

“Yes, here we are!” agreed the professor. “And the next matter to consider is—what are we going to do?”

“We’ve got to hold on to what we have until we can get something better,” the Motor Boy decided, after a moment of thought. “If we smashed the other ship up much, or she smashed us, there’ll be a lot of wreckage floating around soon, and we may be able to pick up a bigger piece. As it[144] is, I think you can get on this one, Professor, and let me swim behind and push it. In that way we can make better progress, and may get back to the transport.”

“I suppose that would be a good plan, Bob. But why can’t we both get on this bit of wreckage?”

“Won’t hold us,” was the answer. “It’s just big enough for you. I’m too fat. Besides, I guess I can stand it better swimmi............