“Can you see Lord Hastings?” shouted Frank.

“No.”

The two craft were less than a hundred yards apart now and still Jack could make out but a solitary figure aboard, that of Smith, stretched out at full length aft.

The boys closed up the remaining distance quickly and the two boats scraped alongside each other.  Pausing only long enough to lash the two together, Frank and Jack sprang aboard The Hawk.

Quickly they glanced about.  There was Smith and no one else in sight.  Frank stooped over him.

“He’s breathing,” he said.

He hurried to the side of the boat, and leaning over, filled his cap with water.  This he sprinkled in Smith’s face and the man stirred.

Jack, in the meantime, had gone into the little cabin and a startled cry now came to Frank’s ears.

He hurried to his friend; and there, in the cabin, the boy stood over the prostrate form of their commander.  The latter lay still and white and Frank stared at him with a great fear in his heart.

“Is he dead?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

“I don’t know,” said Jack slowly.  “He doesn’t seem to be breathing.”

Frank knelt down and placed a hand over Lord Hastings’ heart.

“Yes, he is,” he cried excitedly.  “His heart is beating.  Water, quick!”

Jack dashed away in response to this command and was back in a moment with his cap filled with water.

This he poured over his commander, while Frank bathed his head; and soon these efforts were rewarded.

Lord Hastings stirred, breathed a long sigh and moaned.  Five minutes later he opened his eyes and tried to sit up.

“Lie still, sir,” commanded Frank.

Lord Hastings let his eyes rest on the lad’s face, tried to say something, attempted to move, then fell back with a long sigh.

Again Frank was alarmed.  He bent over his commander and placed a hand over his heart.  Then he arose with an exclamation of satisfaction.

“He’s sleeping,” he said.  “Let’s get to shore as soon as possible.”

Jack hurried away.  First he returned to the other craft and assisted Edwards aboard The Hawk.  Then he went to the engine, Frank took the wheel and they headed for Bantry Bay at full speed.

It was still before noon when they entered the bay and came to anchor in the midst of the motorboat fleet.  The lads had Lord Hastings removed ashore immediately and listened to the diagnosis of the surgeon with bated breath.

“Nothing serious,” said the surgeon, much to the lads’ relief.  “He’s been knocked unconscious in some way.  Something must have struck him a hard blow across the head.  All he needs is perfect quiet for a week.”

“He’ll get it,” declared Jack, “if I have to sit on him for that length of time.”

“And if I have to help you hold him down,” Frank agreed.

For the next week the boys gave their undivided attention to caring for their wounded commander.  Each day, after the first, Lord Hastings grew stronger.  On the third day he wanted to get up, but the surgeon would not hear of it.