“Hard to tell. An hour, maybe two hours.”
Presently, as the boat made full speed up the river, Jerry stirred once more. His lips moved but the words were indistinguishable.
“How far to Covert?” Mr. Parker asked anxiously.
“About four miles from this point,” Griffith flung over his shoulder. “It’s the next town above the Kippenberg estate. I’m making the best time I can.”
Jerry moved restlessly, his hands plucking at the coat which covered him.
“Flaming eyes,” he muttered. “Looking at me—looking at me—”
Penny and her father gazed at each other in startled dismay.
“He’s completely out of his head,” whispered Penny.
“He’s gone back to that other accident which happened last year,” nodded Mr. Parker. “The Vanishing Houseboat affair.”
“Jerry’s had more than his share of bad luck, Dad. Twice now on this same river, he’s met with disaster. And this time he may not come through.”