It was an all-important question.
The boat was perhaps a mile farther from shore than when he first had estimated the distance.
"I don'd know vedder I can swum dot furder or not," he muttered, doubtfully. "But subbosin' der whale, or der duyfel-fish, catch 'old mit mine pootleg, und suck me in under der vater. Vot a duyfel o' a fix I'd be in den. Off I only had some paddles, I vould haff no droubles getting to shore vid der poat."
He was in the midst of these reflections when he heard a shout farther out at sea, and for the first time beheld dimly a dusky object floating in the water not far ahead of him.
"Hello! who you vas, und vot you vant?" Fritz shouted, in answer.
"I am a poor devil more or less drowned, and can't hang on to this barrel much longer. Be you man or devil, for Heaven's sake hurry along with your boat."
"All righd. I vil pe dere in der sweedness py-und-py. Keep a stiff upper lip, und I'll got you soon," the young detective replied, heartily. "Dere's nodding like hang-on at der critical minute."
Kneeling, and leaning over the front part of the boat, he used his hands as propellers, and in this way was able to improve the slow progress of his light craft to some extent, and in a few moments was alongside the barrel, on top of which a drenched human was balancing himself.
At a glance Fritz perceived who it was.
"Hartly!" he exclaimed, in surprise.