To-morrow--"
"One moment," interrupted Bob quickly. "I think you are forgetting.
That is your secret and not mine."
Alan flushed. "I forgot," he said with a stammer, "and I thank
you."
"I can't afford to make you sorry you brought me," added Bob, "and
you are not going to be."
There was a little jar. The propeller slackened a trifle, and Alan
explained that Ned had headed the Cibola another point into the
freshening breeze.
"Steward," said Ned from below, "it's seven o'clock and I'm hungry.
Besides, it's getting pretty dark down here."
Alan and Bob looked at each other and laughed.
"That certainly means me," exclaimed Bob, and both boys clambered
below. With Alan's help Bob made his first examination of the store
room.
The meal was rather haphazard, as the boys, carried away by the
excitement of their new flight, had neglected to eat when it was
light. But water and hardtack were easily accessible, and Alan,
taking the first two cans at hand, found happily that they contained
sardines and veal loaf.
"We'll eat on deck," suggested Ned, as he set the wheel and had
another look at the engine, which had not missed a revolution.
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