Part 28 (1/2)

”No; no one but ourselves has been on the boat to-day.”

”None of us would throw it overboard, knowing how precious a tool it is,” declared Mr. Farnum, glancing about him bewildered. ”It was hardly possible to mislay such a thing by accident. Where on earth _can_ it be, then?”

Again all hands started to hunt. Henderson was the first to sink to a seat as a sign that he gave up the search. The others barely glanced at him, so intent were all on the hunt that meant their only chance for life.

Yet at last they all sat down, panting, perspiring.

”Good heavens!” quivered the inventor. ”We must soon begin to think of our very breath here. We can't exert ourselves as we have been doing.

Whoever moves now, let him remember that he is using up the very life of others in the act of breathing!”

All but devoid of hope, they all remained sitting. At first they studied the floor, gloomily. At last they looked up, to read each other's faces. No hope was to be seen in any countenance.

”Thank heaven the electric light doesn't eat up air,” shuddered Hal Hastings, at last. ”It would be fearful to be alive--conscious--after it had become dark!”

”Don't!” s.h.i.+vered David Pollard, convulsively.

”Come, come, old chap,” urged Farnum, laying a hand on his friend's arm, ”_you_ are not going to lose your courage?”

”I feel as if I ought to bear the whole punishment,” groaned the inventor, covering his eyes with his hands. ”It was I who invented this wretched boat!”

”But you didn't lose the wrench, or mislay it,” broke in Eph Somers, with the intention of consoling.

”Who _did_ mislay it?” pondered Captain Jack aloud. ”If we could only settle that point, it might start us on the right track to finding the thing yet. For, of course, it's on board.”

The certainty that the wrench must be _somewhere_ on the boat brought all to their feet, though this time they rose slowly, almost painfully.

After a few minutes the search became listless. At Hal's suggestion, made with a wan smile, each even searched through his own baggage.

Pantry and galley were patiently ransacked.

”I've heard of such things being lost before, in the simplest way, and defying all search for a long time,” mused Hal, aloud. ”It may be the same with that precious wrench. But the difference, this time, is that we shan't be here long to wait for it to turn up unexpectedly.”

Farnum dropped into a seat again, and that started the rest, until all had taken seats. From one to another, dumb, moody looks were pa.s.sed.

Each was wonderingly asking himself the same question that none would have thought of framing in words. How much longer could the air last in a pure enough condition to sustain six lives?

Eph Somers chuckled, absently, then looked up, startled and ashamed.

The others gazed at him, comprehendingly. Each knew that Eph was thinking how idiotic it was for six human beings to sit, in perfect health, waiting until the soiling of the air about them killed them all.

It was a terrible thought; Eph's mirth was of the hysterical kind.

Finally, after some minutes had pa.s.sed, Jack Benson dragged himself to his feet.

He was amazed, at first thought, to find out how every joint and muscle in his body ached. He felt as weary as though he had been without sleep for a month.

Then he understood. The dreadful la.s.situde was caused by the withdrawing of the life-giving oxygen from the air. The oxygen was still there, but combined with the carbon from lungs and blood to form carbonic acid gas, which, in large quant.i.ties, is fatal to life.

When Jack moved about now, feeling, dully, as though a cane on which to lean would be a great boon, the others got to their feet with evident effort and joined in one more despairing search.

This hunt ended as the others had done, only more quickly. The only places into which they had been able to look for the missing wrench were the same places that had been vainly examined twice before.