"Here's a meal, at all events. They don't intend to starve us. Eat hearty, every one."
"Yes, we need to keep up our strength," observed Captain Weston.
"Why?" inquired Mr. Sharp.
"Because we're going to try to escape!" exclaimed Tom in a low voice, when the sailors who had brought the food had gone. "Isn't that what you mean, captain?"
"Exactly. We'll try to give these villains the slip, and we'll need all our strength and wits to do it. We'll wait until night, and see what we can do."
"But where will we escape to?" asked Mr. Swift. "The island will afford no shelter, and"
"No, but our submarine will," went on the sailor.
"It's in the possession of the Brazilians," objected Tom.
"Once I get aboard the Advance twenty of those brown-skinned villains won't keep me prisoner," declared Captain Weston fiercely. "If we can only slip away from here, get into the small boat, or even swim to the submarine, I'll make those chaps on board her think a hurricane has broken loose."
"Yes, and I'll help," said Mr. Damon.
