"Keep rolling him."
These words seemed a bit nearer, and he was conscious of a feeling of nausea, also that he was being manhandled in an extremely disagreeable manner. But he was too weak to protest, and the punishment continued.
"There, I reckon the water's all out of him."
He sincerely hoped so, if it meant an end of the treatment.
"Turn him over and work his arms up and down."
That was Bob's voice, and, as he was turned on his back he struggled to open his eyes while a faint smile parted his lips.
"All right, old man. Take it easy," Bob's voice soothed him.
"But, but the girl?" he whispered.
"We got her."
"Alive?"