“This isn’t so bad,” remarked Jerry Hopkins.

“Not half,” added Bob Baker. “That is,” he qualified, “when you think how the professor and Judd here and I were situated a few hours ago.”

“Right snug and comfortable, I calls it!” stated the sailor.

As for Professor Snodgrass, attired in a warm but ill-fitting suit which had belonged to some member of the Altaire’s force, he bent over his notes at the table in the cabin of the derelict, where the four refugees were gathered. Night had fallen, signal lamps had been hoisted to the wireless mastheads, and now, having finished their supper, Jerry and his companions were below, “right snug and comfortable,” as the old salt put it.

They had found lanterns and lighted them to give a cheerful glow to the cabin. The electric service was, of course, out of commission with the engines stopped, but provision had been made[199] for auxiliary oil lighting, and it was no worse than conditions had been on all ships before the electric light was discovered.

“Do you think we ought to stand watch and watch all night?” asked Bob, looking at Jerry. “We might sight the Sherman or some other vessel, you know.”

“I don’t see what good it would do,” replied the tall lad. “If we did sight the Sherman we couldn’t move toward her, and unless her engines have been put in commission she couldn’t reach us. We could only drift along and look at one another. And I don’t believe we’ll sight the Sherman.”

“Do you mean she’s sunk?” asked Bob in a low voice, as he thought of Ned still, in all probability, left on board.

“No, not exactly that,” Jerry answered. “She has too many watertight compartments to sink unless she was blown all apart, and I don’t believe that has happened. But I think we must have gotten into two widely separated ocean currents. One is carrying us one way and the other is taking the Sherman along.”

“That’s about the way of it,” chimed in Judd.

“But what about seeing some other vessel?” asked Bob. “I mean one that isn’t disabled and that could take us off.”

“Well, of course, we might see one if we took[200] turns standing watch through the night,” admitted Jerry. “But we have our distress signal lamps set, and any vessel sighting them will put for us at once.”

“Well, all right, if you think that there’s no use worrying,” Bob agreed. “I didn’t fancy standing a night trick myself, but if it had to be done——”

“I don’t think it’s necessary, boys,” said Judd. “As Jerry Hopkins says, if any vessel sees our lights she’ll be bound to come close and investigate.”

The experience through which the sailor had passed with Bob and the professor made him seem like an old friend, and Jerry and Bob were glad to have him call them by name, as though he had known them many years. In fact the nearness to a tragic end, which at one period confronted them all, seemed to squeeze a long time into a very few moments.

“Well then all we’ve got to do,” suggested Bob, “is to stay here, sleep and eat——”

“You haven’t forgotten the eats, Chunky!” laughed Jerry, and it was the first real merriment that had enlivened them since the accident.

“I’m glad you’ve got plenty in the kitchen,” said Bob, joining in the laugh at his own failing. “But what I meant was that we can’t really do anything, can we, to better ourselves any?”

“I don’t know,” replied Jerry, looking at the[201] sailor. “I did think of hoisting some sort of sail, and now that you’re here maybe we can do that. Then we ought to rig up some sort of sea anchor to keep us head on to the waves in case of a blow. Outside of that I don’t know that we can do anything except to keep our distress signals flying.”

“Some sort of sail would be good,” agreed Judd; “and a sea anchor can be easy rigged up now that we have the life raft towing astern. There’s one trouble, though, about setting sail, provided we can do it.”

“What’s the trouble?” asked Bob.

“Well, if we get any steerageway on the craft at all, we may not be able to handle her.”

“Why not?” demanded Bob. “Her rudder is still in place. I noticed it when we were making fast the life raft.”

“Yes, her rudder is in place,” agreed the old salt, “and it only weighs several tons. It’s made to turn by steam, and with the engines dead there isn’t any steam. I doubt if we could manage to steer by hand.”

“There must be some provision for that,” asserted Jerry. “The steam steering gear might go out of commission at any time—in fact, I’ve often read of that happening on vessels. And when it does happen don’t they have to steer by hand?”

“Yes,” admitted the sailor, “I suppose they do.[202] We’ll have a look in the morning and see what we can do. Just now I think we’d better all take it easy.”

“Sure!” agreed Jerry. “We’ve had a hard time. I only hope poor old Ned is as well off as we are just now.”

“I fancy he’s better off in case he’s still on the transport, as he must be,” said Bob.

“He will be if he doesn’t fall too much under the influence of that nincompoop, Dr. Hallet!” suddenly exclaimed Professor Snodgrass.

Jerry and Bob started, looked at one another, and then at the little scientist who was busy making notes about the queer crab and other creatures he had found in the seaweed.

“Who is this Dr. Hallet?” asked Jerry. “You spoke of him once before. Is he the little man I had the trouble with in the restaurant, and who tried to blow up the Sherman?”

“Blow up the troopship!” cried the professor. “Why, I never heard of that!”

“Didn’t............