“Who wants to laugh?” Curly Levitt cried. “After this I’ll trade all my day dreams for one of your nightmares, Mickey.” “We’re the nitwits not to think of something like that!” Barry Blake confessed. “Did you by any chance remember to put some oil and cotton waste in the same package? Our pistols could stand a cleaning now, before the salt water makes them useless.” Rourke pulled the little oilskin-wrapped container from his bundle and handed it to Barry. “Here it is, sir,” he said with a grin. “I’m sorry I’m not a real sleight-of-hand artist, so I could produce a glass of ice water just as easy.” Barry’s left eyelid flickered in a mysterious wink. Pulling out his water-soaked automatic, he handed it, butt first, to the little sergeant. “You clean my gun for me, Mickey, and I’ll produce your glass of drinking water—though it may be minus the ice. I’m afraid neither a silk hat nor a rabbit was included in this raft’s equipment, but we have something just as good.” While the others watched, open mouthed, Barry turned to a small, waterproofed case attached to the side of the raft. Opening it he drew out an object that looked like a small alcohol stove built on futuristic lines. “Here’s our water supply,” he said, holding it up. “You put seawater in _there_ and a little can of fuel in _here_ and set the thing going with a match. In an hour we’ll have a quart and a pint of pure, distilled water. Hap Newton has a gadget just like this on his raft.... What do you think of it, Hap?” “It’s the only respectable still I ever saw,” the irrepressible co-pilot answered. “How much ‘Adam’s Ale’ will it turn out before all the fuel’s used up?” “About fifteen pounds,” Barry stated. “One of the officers on the carrier told me each plane’s rafts were equipped with it. I just forgot to pass on the news. This still is a piece of regular Navy equipment, and so is the fishing tackle that goes with it.... Look!” Reaching into the case again he brought out a sealed, three-pound can. Under the amazed eyes of his three companions, he opened it to show a complete fishing outfit of hooks, lines and dried bait. There was even a small steel spearhead for gaffing large fish. “We’ll use this right away,” the young skipper declared. “Since we’re so near to land we can afford to use some of our still’s fuel to broil a tasty fish dinner. Here are three hook-and-line rigs, so it shouldn’t take us long to catch a meal.” The castaways discovered all at once that they were ravenously hungry. With the tension of immediate danger gone, they went at the fishing with the zest of youngsters. The fish were hungry, too. Within half an hour fifteen pounds of finny food lay on the bottom of the two rafts. The difficult job was preparing and cooking them. Barry solved the problem by cutting the fish into fillets and broiling these on the blade of one of the raft’s aluminum oars. Two cans of fuel were used for that one meal.