He began another desperate struggle, and at last succeeded in freeing one hand, although in so doing he tore a large portion of the skin from his wrist.
“Now or never,” he muttered, desperately. “I must get free before the wind shifts back, or I’ll be a goner.”
He tugged at his other hand, but the cord held and the knot refused to budge.
“Help! help!” he cried again, at the top of his lungs.
He had hardly uttered the words before the wind swerved around, and once more the flames and smoke surrounded him.
“Hullo there!” came faintly from the darkness beyond.
“Help!” cried Bob again.
His throat was almost choked, and his mouth was parched.
“Where are you?”
“In the hay-stack. Save me, I am tied fast!”