“Hurry! hurry! hurry!”
It was with the greatest difficulty that Merriwell kept from uttering the words in a wild cry that would have betrayed his failing strength. He choked it back, however, and smiled encouragingly at Inza.
“They are coming,” he said. “In a few minutes we’ll be in a boat and quite safe.”
“I don’t care,” she returned, in a significant manner. “They need not hurry.”
“If she only knew!” thought Frank.
Once he went down, and the water filled his nostrils so that he strangled a little. Inza gave a cry of alarm, and, fearing she would get excited and struggle, he forced a short laugh.
Nearer and nearer came the boat. He could hear the rump-thump, rump-thump of the oars in the rowlocks.
“Howld on, Frankie, me b’y!” came the cheery call of Barney Mulloy. “We’ll be wid yez in a minute.”
Rump-thump, rump-thump—would the boat never reach them?
How heavy Inza was! And it seemed that a great weight was dragging at Frank’s feet—a weight he could not cast off.