Then he paused a moment and looked about. He saw the plight Clay was in and hastened to release him.
“It seems to me that you kept this little performance rather private!” he said as he cut the cords. “How did he get into the cabin?”
“Came in by the window, from the after deck,” was the reply. “Strange you didn’t see or hear him when he crossed from the Esmeralda!”
“The rain probably prevented the noise he made, if he made any at all, being heard, and the chances are that he didn’t make any! The people who go forth on the mission he seems to have been on usually make as little stir as possible.”
The surgeon now gave his attention to the man, who had been severely injured by the dog, who now stood close by to see that he did not escape. He was covered with blood, his throat being badly tom.
“It seems to me that I’m having a right smart practice on this boat!” he said, with a smile. “I’ll have to go to the other boat for my instruments. That is a ragged wound!”
“Don’t you recognize the fellow?” asked Clay. “Don’t think I ever saw him before.”
“You saw his back, and that was under water,” Clay urged. “Now do you know what I mean?”
“Not little ‘To the Death’? I never guessed that!”
“That’s who it is.”