"Quick!" whispered Frank, as he flung the ropes aside.
"I—I can't—hurry!" gasped out Fenton Hardy. "I've been here too—too long." He could hardly utter the words. His face showed his exhaustion.
"But we've got to hurry, dad!" came excitedly from Frank. "See if you can't make it."
"I'll—I'll do my—my best," returned his father.
"If those fellows come back let's fight for it," put in Joe desperately.
"You bet we'll fight," answered Frank in a voice that meant a great deal.
Fenton Hardy got to his feet as hastily as he could, but when he stood up on the floor he reeled and would have fallen had not Joe grasped his arm. He had been lying bound to the cot for so long and he was so weak from hunger that a fit of dizziness had attacked him. It soon passed, however, and the three hastened toward the door through which the Hardy boys had entered.
But the smugglers were very close now. The Hardys could hear the coarse voices just outside the other door.
There was no chance of escape.
Just as the Hardy boys and their father crossed the threshold the door on the opposite side of the room was flung open.
