"A spar!"
"Any size?"
"Large enough us to hold all up! Swim dis vay! Alone, can I hardly push it to you."
Neither Dave nor the Englishman needed urging. They swam, still bearing the woman between them. The sight of the Dane ahead of them holding to the spar with one arm, and holding up the other hand, heartened them wonderfully.
Soon all three had gained the spar, and Captain Kennor, drawing a cord from his pocket, soon succeeded in lashing the Englishwoman so securely to the spar that she could not slip away and perish.
"Now, you will remember what I said about not giving up," Dave reminded his companions.
"Why, yes, I am buoyed up, and perhaps you men can manage to hold on, also," admitted the woman. "Yet we must freeze to death."
"We will still dare to hope," Darrin replied, calmly.
"You are a splendid inspiration, Mr. Darrin!" declared the Englishman, heartily. "I wish I could believe that you are a true prophet, as well."
"Oh, well," spoke Dave, with a lightness that was deceptive, "I've really been in several worse scrapes than the present one."
