"You'll stay right where you are until the doctor gives his permission for you to get up," said Frank firmly, "if I have to hold you in."
"Don't you believe it," cried Jack. "I'll be up and out of here tomorrow, or I'll know the reason why."
But he wasn't; for, as Frank had said, he was too badly wounded to be able to get about. The next day and the following one, while the Lena continued steadily on her course toward England, Jack was forced to lie in his bed.
It was not until the dawn of the third day that the surgeon gave him permission to go on deck. Supported by Frank's arm, the injured lad made his way to the bridge, where he took a deep breath of the invigorating air.
"By Jove! this feels good," he exclaimed, as a stiff breeze swept across the ship. "Think I'll camp out up here a while."
"Oh, no, you won't," replied Frank. "Just one hour, and then back to bed for you."
"By George! you'd think I was a baby the way you tell me what to do," said Jack, with some show of temper.
"You'll go back when your hour is up, if I have to drag you," said Frank. "And I don't believe you are in condition to put up much resistance."
"I guess you are right," replied Jack ruefully.
His hour up he returned to his cabin and Frank once more tucked him comfortably in bed.