As his feet touched the ground, Bob attempted to stand, but his legs buckled under him and he would have fallen were it not for the hands beneath his armpits. He was lowered to the ground, and lay there with eyes closed while those who had assisted him moved away. He could hear the soft swish of their moccasined feet in the sand.
Cautiously, when he believed himself alone, Bob opened his eyes and found himself staring up in the crown of his sun helmet, which had been placed on his face. Yes, the blow had not wrecked the little radio set, which he could see in the crown. At least, he could discern the panel on which the instruments were placed, and which formed the bottom of the set. The blow had fallen on the rear brim, which was crushed and splintered.
Bob still felt excruciating pain on the back of his head, but came to the conclusion that the softening of the blow had saved him from a crushed skull and that in a day or two he would be all right.
Through this hole in the brim, resting on the tip of his nose, he could see a portion of his surroundings. The light was fading. Evidently, twilight had come. Bob wondered at that, which meant he had been riding all, or at least the better part of, the day.
A halt had been called, and in the line of his vision Bob could see a fire just beginning to blaze, and the bare legs of men coming and going about it. There were no tents, and Bob’s first conclusion, namely that they had halted at an encampment of other Athensians, evidently was incorrect. The few figures, and the absence of such noises as would attend a large camp, were assurance that no additions had been made to the party.
Speculation as to what would be his fate took possession of Bob, as he again closed his eyes to ease the pain behind them. That he had been captured for a purpose was apparent. Otherwise, when he had put up his heroic fight, he would have been killed. Well, at least he was to be let live; for a while, anyhow. That was something. While there was life, he told himself, there was no need to despair.
Bob wondered what had become of Jack and Ali. Were they aware of his predicament? Had they seen him captured and carried away, and would Mr. Hampton set out to rescue him? Or was his fate unknown, and the outcome of his adventure dependant solely on his own exertions? Would Mr. Hampton give him up for lost and eventually carry out his plan to abandon the expedition and return to civilization?
All these questions and many more passed through Bob’s brain as he lay there on the ground, while the blood slowly worked its way through his cramped limbs and he felt every minute a return of strength and even noted a diminution of the pain in his head. He was thankful that, at least, he had not been incapacitated physically, that apparently his strength and the use of his body was left him. When the time came for a break for freedom, he told himself grimly, he’d show these Athensians.
At that moment, through the hole in the brim of his sun helmet, just as he again opened his eyes, he saw the legs of a man approaching. Then a hand grasped him by an arm and shook him, and the hat was lifted from his eyes. Bending over him was an Athensian, a sturdy, stockily built fellow, who jerked at his arm and indicated by signs that he was to rise to his feet.
Bob struggled to comply, pretending to greater weakness than really possessed him. He figured that if he appeared to be in a weaker state than was the case, his chances for escape would be increased.