Hawkins' rivets are really what they claim to be. Only one consideration
has delayed their universal adoption. They cost a trifle less than one
dollar apiece to manufacture and set.

But they stay where they are put, and I knew that if the launch's woodwork
was held together by them, it wasn't likely to come apart much before
Judgment Day.

"Real nice mess, isn't it, Hawkins?" I said.

"It--it might be worse."

"Far worse," I agreed. "We might be wallowing helplessly around in those
heaving billows, or a gale might be tiring itself all out in the effort
to swamp us. But, as it is, we are merely careering gaily over the sunlit
waves at an unearthly speed. In a day or two, Hawkins, we shall sight the
French coast, barring accidents, go ashore, and----"

"By Jove, Griggs!" exclaimed the inventor, lighting up on the instant. "Do
you know, I hadn't thought of that? Just let me see. Yes, my boy, at this
rate we shall be in the Bay of Biscay Monday night or Tuesday morning, at
the latest. Think of it, Griggs! Think of the fame! Think of----"

I couldn't bear to think of it any longer. I knew that if I thought about
it for another ten seconds, I should hurl Hawkins into the sea and go to
my own watery grave with murder on my hands.

The bow of the launch being the furthest possible point from its owner,
I gathered up my overcoat, cigars, and a sandwich, and crouched there,
keeping out of the terrific wind as much as possible, watching for a