Slowly and carefully he proceeded at first, but as he gained in confidence he increased the speed of his descent. Before he had covered half of the distance he was swinging along as freely and apparently as carelessly as any sailor. A moment later and he reached the deck.
“Good boy,” cried Captain Dodge, springing forward to shake hands with Fred, and at the same time a hearty cheer was given by the crew.
As soon as Fred touched foot on the deck, however, a change came over him. His face became deathly pale and he swayed dizzily. He put out his hand to save himself, but before Captain Dodge could reach him he collapsed and sank to the deck in a limp heap.
“Fainted,” remarked Grant simply.
“Well, I don’t blame him,” exclaimed Pop Sanders. “It’s the reaction from the strain probably.”
The three boys rushed to the side of their comrade and found that Grant’s surmise had been correct. Fred had fainted.
“Bring some water,” directed Captain Dodge. “He’ll be around presently.”
Fred soon opened his eyes after a few treatments of cold water, splashed directly in his face. He looked about him and smiled weakly.
“How do you feel?” asked Captain Dodge.
“Fine,” said Fred, but he didn’t look so.