In the dreadful moment that succeeded, it seemed as if the craft must go crashing down to the very floor of the ocean. But a fraction of a second later those on board both _Wondership_ and yacht knew that this was not to be the case.
Having struck the water, the hollow hydroplanes and the water-tight body of the craft fulfilled their purposes right nobly. Buoyed on the crest of a big swell, the _Wondership_ floated, and the next instant, amidst a cheer of more than ordinary fervor, Jack started her for the yacht’s side.
“By the galumping galleons of Gaul, she does that!” agreed Dick Donovan, against whose pale face the freckles stood out like spots on the sun.
“But will she move?” cried Mr. Chadwick, as the propeller began to churn the water.
“We’ll soon see,” answered Jack over his shoulder.
As the blades bit into the water the _Wondership_ was drawn forward, slowly at first and then, gathering speed as she crossed the space intervening between herself and the yacht’s side, the _Wondership_ was seen to adapt herself to the water as well as she had to the earth or the air. A moment later, skillfully manipulating his rudder, Jack brought the strange craft alongside the yacht’s lowered companionway with as much skill as any veteran mariner making a familiar landing.
To reach the gangway from the spot at which the _Wondership_ had struck the water, they had to pass her stern. On the graceful, narrow counter of the craft was much gilt scroll-work and ornamentation. Amidst all this “flummery,” as sailors call it, they made out a name and hailing port.
“_Valkyrie-of-Bremen_,” was what they read.
As his eyes encountered the name, Mr. Chadwick gave a gasp.
“Why,—why! This is most extraordinary!” he cried in frank amazement. “This is the very yacht from which my wireless message was relayed from Sciuticut!”
“They must have been trying to make for the mouth of the Nestorville River when whatever is the matter on board, came up,” commented Jack.
But by this time they were at the gangway and conversation ceased for the time being. They could see several heads poked over the side, eying them curiously. As they came alongside, a stockily built man with a bristling straw-colored moustache descended the gangway stairs.