"You will have to come to me, monsieur," he called weakly. "I have
not sufficient strength to gain my hands and knees."

"SAPRISTI!" muttered Monsieur Thuran. "You are attempting to cheat
me out of my winnings."

Clayton heard the man shuffling about in the bottom of the boat.
Finally there was a despairing groan. "I cannot crawl," he heard
the Russian wail. "It is too late. You have tricked me, you dirty
English dog."

"I have not tricked you, monsieur," replied Clayton. "I have done
my best to rise, but I shall try again, and if you will try possibly
each of us can crawl halfway, and then you shall have your `winnings.'"

Again Clayton exerted his remaining strength to the utmost, and he
heard Thuran apparently doing the same. Nearly an hour later the
Englishman succeeded in raising himself to his hands and knees,
but at the first forward movement he pitched upon his face.

A moment later he heard an exclamation of relief from Monsieur
Thuran.

"I am coming," whispered the Russian.

Again Clayton essayed to stagger on to meet his fate, but once more
he pitched headlong to the boat's bottom, nor, try as he would,
could he again rise. His last effort caused him to roll over on
his back, and there he lay looking up at the stars, while behind
him, coming ever nearer and nearer, he could hear the laborious