Dim and misty were his recollections.
It seemed to Ed that the attack by the Chinamen, the shooting of Pow Chow, and all that followed, must have been a dream.
It was certainly the same boat, and there was nobody in it but himself.
A rope made it fast to a pile, it was floating about under the pier.
"I must have hit my head in some way," reasoned Ed. "That's what's the matter. Bless me, don't I feel queer! What strange dreams I have had! I suppose Pow Chow thinks I have been drowned."
He felt now that it was time to act, and he tried to stand up in the boat.
Very quickly Ed found that this would not work.
He was glad to sit down on the seat. If he had not done so he surely would have fallen.
Just then the boat began to move rapidly forward.
Looking, Ed saw that a hand was clutching the rope.