Barely were they gone when Frank was startled by a voice that called:
“Hello, Merry!”
“Eh?” exclaimed Frank. “Who are you?”
A head rose up from the opposite berth. The light shone full on the face of the person in that berth, and Frank Merriwell came near shrieking:
“Bart Hodge!”
Frank was incredulous. He could not believe the evidence of his eyes. He was almost inclined to think himself staring at a phantom.
“Hodge—impossible!”
“Not a bit of it,” assured the voice of Hodge himself. “I am here, but I’m tied, like yourself, and it strikes me we are in a mighty bad scrape.”
“But—but we thought you dead,” said Frank. “We felt sure you were dead. How do you come to be here?”
“That’s an easy one. When the Jolly Sport slammed up against this vessel I thought she was a goner, and I made a scramble to get on board here, expecting the rest of you to follow. I was astonished when you failed to do so, and I looked down to see nothing of the boat. She was gone, and I did not know but what she had gone to the bottom with the whole of you. They have kept me here ever since, for I was knocked over and tied up with ease, like the fool that I am! I’ve tried to get away, but it’s no use. Then I heard you captured, and saw you dragged in here.”