“What do you want me to do, pard?” he inquired.
“We’ll try artificial respiration,” said Merriwell. “You work his lungs while I work his arms.”
What followed caused the wildest excitement among the watching Arabs, for Buckhart knelt astride the body of the old sheik and began a regular and steady pumplike movement on the lower part of his breast, while Dick seized the man’s arms, pulled them at full length above the Arab’s head, then bent them back suddenly and pressed them to his sides. The two boys worked together in perfect unison.
Some of the Arabs cried out that the infidels were defiling the dead. Two or three of them drew weapons and would have rushed on the boys; but the same husky fellow, who had checked them before now, produced a pistol and averred that he would “blow daylight” through the whole of them if they did not keep still.
In this manner they were temporarily checked, and that brief check gave Merriwell time enough to accomplish his purpose.
A low moan and a convulsive gasp came from the lips of the man over which the boys were working. Signs of returning consciousness were pronounced. His breast heaved. The boys ceased their work. For he breathed.
An Englishman held out a flask of whisky.
“Give him a swallow of this,” he advised.
Dick pushed it away.
“Water,” he called. “That will be better for him.”