"Oh, I forgot!" cried the lad. "Maybe you're all fixed like I was. Where are you?" he continued, taking a stumbling step. "Why don't you talk?"
Quickly Jimmie produced a searchlight from an inner pocket.
It was the work of but a few moments to find and release his fellow prisoners. A great stretching of arms and indrawing of breath followed this act. All were loud in their expressions of gratitude to Jimmie and wondered at his ability to break loose from the bonds.
"I guess they didn't take the trouble to tie me very tight," explained Jimmie modestly, but the abrasions on his bleeding wrists spoke eloquently of the heroic struggle the lad had made.
"We'll fix you up as soon as we get to a drug store!" asserted Jack. "Those cuts must hurt pretty badly. Jimmie, you're a brick!"
"Aw, shucks!" deprecated Jimmie. "Let's get out of here!"
"Here's a window with some bars over it," announced Harry, who had been examining their prison. "Maybe we could crawl out of that!"
"Yes, and drop into the river!" scorned Jimmie, approaching.
"Perhaps there might be a police boat on the river," suggested Francois. "If we could attract their attention they would help us."
"Good idea!" Jimmie approved. "I'll turn in a 'four-eleven.'"