At last, he could see the light no more. Several times he rose high in the boat as it rolled to the top of a swell and strained his eyes through the darkness, but was unrewarded. All around was the dark, swirling sea that seemed to hiss at him in scorn.
“Lost!” he groaned, sinking down. “The storm is coming, and this boat must be swamped. It is the end for me! I am beginning to see that this is just punishment. I have been a bad boy. I did not know how bad I really was, but now I can see it all. Oh, if I live I will reform! I swear it! I will lead a different life! And Parker Flynn shall be punished!”
“You seem to forget that there is anyone else in this boat,” said the voice of Frank Merriwell, who had remained quiet so long. “I am in the same box with you.”
Wallace uttered a cry of surprise and joy.
“I did forget!” he exclaimed. “Oh, I was thinking of myself! I am not alone!”
“No. You helped get me into this scrape, and now you are sharing the fun. You do not seem to like it.”
“Oh, Mr. Merriwell, I am sorry I ever had anything to do with that man—sorry I ever helped him in his work against you! It is true, and I hope you will believe me!”
“I do,” said Frank, in a dry way. “Almost anybody in your position would be sorry. But I am tied up here so I can’t wiggle. Set me free, and we will see what can be done.”
“Oh, nothing can be done! We are doomed!”
“Well, you can set me free. You need not be afraid of me now. I’ll not hurt you, for I think you are being punished enough, and we must be companions for each other to the end.”