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Frank issued his requests as if he had been used to saving drowned persons every day. His crisp words had the effect of restoring Mrs.
Racer to her usual calmness.
"I'll attend to everything," she said. "Oh, the poor fellow! Bring him right in here. Can you and Bob lift him?"
"I think so," answered the captain's st.u.r.dy son.
"Oh, why doesn't Dr. Martin come?" cried Mrs. Racer.
"That sounds like his auto now!" exclaimed Frank, as he and Bob carried the unknown lad into the house. "Yes," he added a moment later, "here he comes."
"And Andy's with him," added Bob. "The doctor must have picked him up on the way here."
It was the work of but a few moments to get most of the unconscious youth's clothes off and place him in bed. By that time the physician was ready to begin his ministrations.
"I don't know," mused Dr. Martin, as he felt of the feeble, flickering pulse, and listened to the scarcely audible breathing. "He's pretty far gone. Hurt internally, I imagine. But we'll see if we can save him."
With the eager and able a.s.sistance of the Racer boys, their mother and Bob Trent, Dr. Martin labored hard to restore the lad to consciousness.
At first his efforts seemed of no avail. His eyes remained closed, and the pulse and breathing seemed to grow more feeble.
"I think I'll try the electric battery," said the doctor finally. "If one of you will bring it in from my auto, I'll see what effect that has."
"I'll get it!" cried Andy, and he fairly ran out and back.
For a time it looked as if even the powerful current would be useless, but when the doctor turned it on full strength there was a convulsive shudder of the body. Then, suddenly the eyes opened, and the voice of the rescued lad murmured:
"It's cold--the water--Oh! The gasolene tank! It will explode! I can't get away now! I must jump!"
He raised himself in bed, but the doctor gently pressed him back.
"There, there now," spoke the physician soothingly. "You are all right. Don't worry. You'll be all right."
"He's going to live," said Andy softly.
Once more the tired eyes closed, and then opened again.
"Where--where am I?" asked the lad wildly.
He looked about the room in amazement, and once more tried to get out of bed, but was restrained.
"You're with friends," said Mrs. Racer softly. "You will be well taken care of."
"What--what place is this?" gasped the lad.
"Harbor View," replied Frank promptly. "Who are you?"
Eagerly they all leaned forward, for they wanted to solve the mystery of the ident.i.ty of the rescued lad. He gazed at them all in turn. A half smile played about his face. Then he said weakly:
"I am----"
He sank back upon the bed unconscious, his name unspoken.
CHAPTER V
SEEKING THE WRECK
For a moment there was silence in the room, and something like a disappointed sigh came from Frank and his brother. Andy leaned over the bed.
"Who are you?" he asked, placing his hand on the head of the lad.
"Can't you tell us who you are, or where you live? We want to help you. How did you come to be in the boat alone? How did it get on fire?"
There was no response.
"It is useless to question him," said Dr. Martin. "I will give him some medicine, now that he is partially restored to consciousness, and perhaps when he is stronger he can tell who he is. In the meanwhile it will be best not to bother him."
The boys took this as a hint that they had better leave the room, so the three of them filed silently out to permit of the physician and Mrs. Racer continuing their efforts to bring the lad out of the stupor into which he had fallen.
"It's a queer case," mused Frank.
"It sure is," agreed his brother. "I hope he doesn't die before we find out who he is, or where he belongs."
"I hope he doesn't die at all," put in his brother quickly.
"Oh, of course," a.s.sented Frank. "So do I."
"Could you make out any name on the motor boat?" inquired Bob.
"Didn't have a chance," answered the older Racer lad. "Andy and I had our hands full managing our boat, and, when I went overboard I had to depend on Andy to pull that lad and me back. The sea was fierce and it was blowing great guns. All I know is that it was a fine boat, and it's a shame it was wrecked on the Shark's Teeth."
"She'll go to pieces if she stays there long," was Bob's opinion. "The bottom will be pounded out of her and she'll go down."
"Your father was right about the storm coming up," said Frank, after a pause. "I never saw it blow so hard in such a short time."
"Oh, dad can generally be depended on for a weather guess," said the son proudly. "Well, I must be getting back. Got to put on another load of clams before supper. Let me know how that chap makes out, will you?"
"Sure," a.s.sented Frank. "And if you see or hear anything of that motor boat up or down the coast, let us know. Maybe we can save it, and find out something about this boy from it, in case he isn't able to tell."
"I'll do it," promised the captain's son.
"And if you see a wounded whale, it belongs to us," added Andy.
"A wounded whale?" gasped Bob. "Are you stuffing me? This isn't Thanksgiving."
"It was a whale all right," went on Andy, playfully poking his brother in the ribs, "and it stove in my boat. If I could catch the beggar I'd sell his hide or oil or whatever is valuable about him, and get a new boat."
"Does he mean it?" asked Bob, turning to Frank, for the younger Racer lad was well known for his practical jokes and his fun-loving characteristics.