“Marcos!” called out Claudia.
“All right!” responded Nick. “Come along! Look out you don’t run us down!”
“Thank Heaven!” she gasped, with unmistakable fervor.
The girl had learned a great deal about the launch even in the short time in which she had been guiding it from shore, and it was with considerable skill that she reduced its speed now, preparatory to running alongside of the two men in the water.
When she had been talking about the resemblance of Nick Carter to Prince Marcos, she had mentioned the fact that their voices were so much alike that it would be easy for one to be mistaken for the other.
Now, when Nick called out to her to come on, in response to her cry of “Marcos!” she supposed it was her cousin calling.
“Here, Marcos!” she said, as she came near. “Climb into the boat. I’ll hold it as still as I can.”
“I’m afraid we shall have to lift him in, Miss Solado,” suggested Nick. “He isn’t able to help himself!”
“Oh, Mr. Carter!” she replied. “Is it you I am talking to? But you have my cousin—haven’t you?”
“Yes. He’s here. But he is not quite as well as he might be. Steady! Keep the boat where it is, and we can get him in. Never mind about that man in the rowboat. He can’t get to us in time. Let him blow.”