“And so am I!”
“And I!”
“And I!”
In the meanwhile the young oarsman was trying his best to work himself free of his bonds. He felt that unless he escaped he would surely be tarred and feathered.
He tugged at the ropes around his body, and after a hard struggle he managed to free his left arm.
His right arm followed, although this cost him a bad cut on the wrist, from which the blood flowed freely.
But he gave the wound no thought, and in haste began to work at the rope at his waist.
Now that was loosened, only the one around his knees remained.
He looked anxiously toward the fire. The masked boys were still in deep discussion, and not a single eye was directed toward the prisoner.
Oh, for three minutes more time!