"But I want to go with you! You will need help!"
"Perhaps I may have to return to the raft. I can't find it if you leave
it."
"We can get on that vessel. And perhaps, if you go alone, you will be
killed."
Merriwell was as anxious and almost as much excited, but he kept his
head.
"Don't you see that the sloop is moving on the new tack. She may be
going faster than I can swim. Stay on the raft!"
As he gave this last command, he slipped out of his heavy, soaked outer
coat, quickly removed his shoes, and, pushing these articles to Hodge,
let himself into the sea, and began to swim toward the dingy
fishing-sloop. Hodge did not again shout, for he saw that Merriwell's
plan was to swim to the sloop, climb aboard of it, and by a sudden
attack overwhelm the men.
"He's crazy!" Hodge grated. "They will see him, and they will simply
knock him back into the sea. They act as if they were lunatics--or
drunk! Why don't they look this way?"
It was indeed singular, but neither of the men seemed to have noticed
the raft or heard the cries that came from it. Merriwell was a splendid
swimmer, and in spite of his chilled condition and his hampering
clothing, he moved through the water almost like a fish.
"Of course I couldn't have kept up with him!" Bart grumbled.
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