Without delay the two of them scrambled along the slanted decks. Aft of the deckhouse, under her tarpaulin, they found the launch. As Polaris had said, she was in pieces. Only the hull lay on the deck of the Felix, a stout twenty-five-foot craft. Her sixty horsepower engine, and her auxiliary mast, sail and jib were below decks.
Zenas Wright looked her over with flashing eyes. "If there's gasoline enough we may make it," he said. "We've got to make it!" He did a mental computation. "It's a rough two thousand miles to New Zealand. Let's see. If you can steer, son, and I think you can, running twenty-four hours a day, and using the sails to save gas, when we can, we can make it in a month— if we meet no obstacles; which, of course, we will. We must provision for two months. If that doesn't
