"I don't think he intended to take us to Cordova at all!" insisted Sam.
"Well," Tommy argued, "there's no way he can stop us until we get to Cordova, and he can't stop us then unless he reaches the coast or gains the wireless station before we leave the town. Once out on the gulf again, with the surgeon on board, we'll reach Katalla in spite of Jamison, and start the doctor toward the cabin."
"Then here goes for the town!" cried Frank, turning on an extra bit of power and sending the boat through the waves like a meteor.
It was rough riding, but the boys were fairly good seamen and stood the shaking up well.
About midnight the wheelsman began showing signs of consciousness. He sat up on the swaying deck and motioned for water.
"Tip him overboard!" advised Sam.
"Aw, give him a drink," argued Tommy. "If you'd had had as much red liquor during the last few hours as he's had, you'd want to connect with the water cooler, I guess! Give the man a show!"
"Where are you taking the motor boat?" asked the wheelsman.
"Cordova."
"Is that right about your wanting a surgeon?"