When Mr. Wright and his men had bound together all of the lumber which had been collected, they had a commodious, serviceable raft. It consisted of a double tier of heavy timbers all through, and rode high in the water, even when it carried all seven of the party. The boys had worked faithfully over Captain Foster, but he still had not recovered consciousness, though his body had become much warmer. The sky was clear, and a bright sun had done quite as much as the boys’ vigorous rubbing to bring about that condition. Mr. Wright examined the unconscious man more carefully than he had done at first, and was quite sure that the skull had not been injured by the blow which he had received. “I don’t believe there is anything more we can do,” said the mate, “but I think he will come to himself before long. We’d better all take off our clothes and dry them in the sun. I ought to have taken off some of the captain’s clothes; he would have warmed up quicker; I believe I’ll do it now.” He began to remove Captain Foster’s jacket, and as he stooped over him to release an arm the captain opened his eyes. “How many of the men were saved?” he asked. “Three,” replied the mate. “Who were they?” “Jack, Watson, and Smith.” “Thank God!” said the captain fervently; “they are three of the men with families. And the passengers?” “Both of them,” replied the mate. “I’m glad of that. What are we on?” “We built a raft,” said the mate, “from the wreckage.” “You’re a capable man, Mr. Wright,” said the captain. “My head feels pretty level now. I fancy I can sit up.” And he proceeded to do so. Sidney and Raymond and the three men gathered around the captain and expressed their delight at his recovery. “Gee! captain,” exclaimed Raymond, “we’re glad to hear you talking.” “And I’m glad to see you, my boy,” said the captain. “This is pretty hard luck for you boys, just as you thought you were getting out.” “Don’t think about us, captain,” said Sidney; “it’s you and your crew who have met with hard luck.” “Well,” said the captain, “we have to take it as a part of the day’s work.” “I hated awfully,” said Raymond, “to lose that fine rug that we packed over the mountains for our mother, and my revolver, too.” “You won’t need your revolver again,” said Captain Foster, “but if we’re taken by the Austrians the rug might have come in handy. I only hope that we’ll not be picked up by an Austrian boat.” “What would they do with us?” asked Raymond. “You boys would probably not be held, but the rest of us would be sent to a detention camp. They would never let Englishmen get back home.” “And not be released until the war is over?” “I fancy not.” “Gee!” said Raymond, “that would be tough. Why, the war may last a month or two yet.” “Yes,” said Captain Foster, “or a year or two.” “Captain,” asked Raymond, “do you remember when the ship went down?”