For an instant he seemed to have succeeded. And then the barge gave an unexpected sideways lurch and Sandy fell heavily on his side.
He lay there perfectly still, his eyes shut in a face that looked startlingly white in the flickering light of the lamp.
“Sandy!” Ken jerked forward involuntarily but caught himself just before he lost his hard-won position on the chair. “Sandy!” he repeated urgently. “Are you—?”
Sandy opened one eye. “I’m—all right,” he gasped.
He raised his head slightly and his mouth tightened with pain.
“But I think I must have twisted my ankle a little when I fell,” he went on after a moment. “I don’t think I can put my weight on it for a while, even if I could get upright.”
“Don’t try it,” Ken said quickly. “You’re going to be no help if you’re knocked out.” His eyes searched the room frantically. “There must be something around here we can use to get out of these ropes.” His voice lifted suddenly. “Maybe Cal’s got a knife in his pocket!”
He leaned forward instinctively toward the body beneath him.
“Don’t get off the chair!” Sandy said quickly. “I’ll come over.”
Again hope seemed to have given him new strength. Slowly at first, and then a little faster, he squirmed his way over the floor. Sitting down near Cal, with his back toward the unconscious man, his bound hands began to fumble with the fastenings of Cal’s oilskins.