Hertig was from Seacove, too, and was a particularly good friend of Whistler and his chums. “Seven Knott” was his nickname aboard the _Colodia_, and the boys had had many adventures afloat and ashore in his company. “I ain’t got much use for them squareheads,” Hans declared, “and after what they done back there, I dunno as these fellers, what would have done the same had they reached land, should be helped yet.” “Not much likelihood of our finding them at all,” one of the other men said. “Ten hours in the water now! And the bag of the Zep is bound to fill with water and sink the whole framework. Those Heinies will be kicking about in pretty wet water.” This was the attitude of most of the crew; yet there was great curiosity among them to see what was left of the Zeppelin that had fallen into the sea. Commander Lang conferred with the navigation officer and his other chiefs. The _Colodia_ had reached the spot indicated in their orders from the port admiral. Now all they could do was to sweep in circles about the designated place and keep an extra sharp lookout. In fact, every man who could get on deck was watching the tumbling seas for any sign of wreck or castaway. After all, as the minutes passed and nothing at all was descried where they had expected to find survivors of the Zeppelin, even the roughest members of the crew stopped growling about “the Heinies.” It was one thing to give vent to the bitterness they felt against the Germans in speech, it was another thing to think of those fourteen or sixteen men struggling for so many hours in the icy water, and finally being drowned so miserably. The hammock stowers had just stopped down the hammock cloths and the boys had got their mess gear preparatory for breakfast at 7:30 A. M. when there came a hail from the mast. One of the lookouts had descried something in the east. He pointed, and excitedly yelled his directions to the watch officer. The _Colodia’s_ engines began to speed up. When she went her full thirty-odd knots her hull shook as though she would rattle to pieces. The life of a destroyer in such work as the _Colodia_ had been doing since she was launched, can be only a few months. Commander Lang was already talking to his officers of the time when she would have to be scrapped. Meanwhile her record would amply repay the Navigation Bureau for building her. There was no doubt of that. Now she pounded away at top speed for the point where the lookout had seen something afloat on the tumbling seas. All through this trip, not only the destroyer’s commander, but many of the more thoughtful members of the crew, had half suspected a German trick.