The tying went on, and Clay was obliged to endure it. If some of the boys would come!
Where was Captain Joe? Somehow, that dog never was where he was wanted! If he would only come now!
Perhaps he had been silenced by a blow on the head. But no; the dog was out on the front deck, and the intruder had entered the cabin from the rear.
The man who seemed to have taken undisputed possession of the Rambler, first taking care to place the weapons beyond the reach of Paul, proceeded then to put the motors in motion. Clay watched him as he did so with anxious eyes, hoping to see him push the wrong lever, but the fellow did nothing of the kind.
All this time rain had been falling in great sheets, but now there came a lull in the storm.
The cords hurt Clay’s wounded arm, and he uttered an involuntary groan of pain. As if attracted by the cry, Captain Joe appeared in the cabin doorway!
The dog was quick to take in the situation, and, before he could make a move to defend himself, had the fellow by the throat. He had not counted on Captain Joe!
The fellow gasped as the teeth of the dog tore at his throat, and he tried to cry out, but was unable to do so. Together they rolled here and there on the cabin floor.
The noise of the struggle attracted the attention of Thede, who lost no time in getting on board the boat. At a word from Clay the dog released his hold, and the man fell back in a faint.
“I wonder if he’s dead?” Thede said, as he bent over the unconscious man. “It surely isn’t the fault of the dog if he still has life in his body!”