Nick Carter was pleased with Harvey L. Drago. He liked a man who was not easily discouraged, and it was evident that Drago was as full of fight as if he had never been beaten. Nick drew his jackknife from his pocket, and severed Drago’s bonds with a series of quick slashes. In the darkness his movements were not noticed by the sailors. The prisoners were in the fore part of the boat, for one thing, so that the rowers’ backs were toward them. Kennedy and the other men were in the stern, and it would not have been easy for them to discern the doings of the prisoners, even in daylight. Now, with the moon gone, and only stars to light up the wide bay and boat, there was hardly any possibility. “Say! I heard those fellows speak of you as Nick Carter,” whispered Drago. “Is that right? Are you the famous----” “My name is Nick Carter,” interrupted the detective. “I am the detective. Are you game for a fight to get out of this?” “Am I?” returned Drago, so emphatically that Nick warned him not to speak above a low whisper. “You’ll see.” “All right! But be careful. If it were not for the splashing of the water and the little noise the oars make, you would have been overheard already. I’ll give you the signal for action.” “What are we going to do?” “Wait till the boat gets up to the yacht. Then, before they can make fast, knock as many of them overboard as you can and jump for the ladder. Get that?” “Sure! I wish there was another one to help.” “There is,” put in a low voice, behind the detective. “I’m not clear in my mind. But I believe I could do something in a pinch.” Lord Vinton, slowly recovering from the effects of Valeria’s poisonous gas, and helped back to reason and strength by the invigorating sea air, had heard what Nick Carter and Drago had been saying, and was anxious to take a hand. The detective welcomed him with quiet enthusiasm. “If you can lay out only one of the men with a boat stretcher,” he whispered, “you’ll be doing a great deal. Here is the stretcher right here!” The detective had found a loose piece of wood, some three feet long, lying near him, and he had known it for one of the braces against which oarsmen place their feet to help their pull on the oars. It would make a most effective weapon, even in the rather weak grasp of the half-poisoned Lord Vinton. “Think you can fix one of them with this?” asked Carter. “I’ll give him a rap that he’ll remember,” promised Vinton. CHAPTER XI. UNDER HATCHES. Nick Carter was glad that it took more than a quarter of an hour longer to reach the yacht. Every minute was beneficial to Lord Vinton, as he drew in deep breaths of the life-giving atmosphere. “Easy all!” called out Kennedy, directing his oarsmen. “Back water! Unship port oars! That’s good! Steady! Wait till I get hold of the ladder rail!”