"Next is the food supply," went on Dick, and when they looked over what the kidnappers had left with Miguel Valdez there were anxious looks on every face, for the quantity was barely sufficient to last them a week.
"There's only one thing to do," declared Dick, grimly, "we will have to go on short rations until we are rescued, or until we can get away from this place."
"And when will that be?" asked Beeby, nervously.
"How about it, Widdy?" inquired Dick of the old sailor; "are any vessels likely to pass this way?"
"Not many," was the response. "We're out of the track of most vessels, though, of course, there's always the chance of a tramp steamer seein' our signals. As the flagpoles are on both sides of the island, they can hardly miss 'em."
"Well, we won't sit down and wait for some one to come along," decided Dick, after a moment's thought. "If we want to get away from this place we've got to help ourselves."
"And how's that?" inquired Paul. "Are we going to build a boat, like Robinson Crusoe did, out of a hollow tree?"
"Not much," declared Dick. "We haven't any tools to make a boat, but we can build a raft, and float away on that, and perhaps get in the track of some steamer; eh, Widdy?"
"I think so, Mr. Dick. We'll try, anyhow."
