As black despair claimed him, a hand reached out of nowhere to support his back. The gag was jerked from his mouth so that he could breath again. Gratefully, he sucked in big mouthfuls of air.
Twisting his head, Dan saw that it was Jacques who had saved him. The boy was treading water beside him, supporting his body with his left hand.
“Lie still,” Jacques commanded. “I tow you. Police boat come. Pick us up.”
Even as he spoke, the powerful beam from the approaching launch spotlighted the water about them. A moment later, both boys were hauled aboard.
“Jacques, you saved me,” Dan murmured gratefully as the other boy bent to unfasten the ropes which bound him. “Thanks.”
Gravely they shook hands and wrung the water from their dripping garments.
“And you deliberately crashed the boat so the police would catch up with us,” Dan added. “Why, Jacques?”
The boy shrugged. “Only way,” he answered briefly.
After freeing Dan, Jacques watched anxiously while police picked up his uncle, Frisk Fagan and Joe Matt. The three had saved themselves by clinging to the sinking motorboat.
Before the men could release the boxes of stolen furs, police had them covered. They were forced aboard the launch, and the smashed motorboat taken in tow. Fagan’s forehead was cut and Jabowski nursed an injured arm. Otherwise the crash had left them unscathed.