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Chapter 778
It was Kennedy, who had crawled up close to him, and was begging there, upon his knees, and weeping piteously. Joe, himself in tears, gave the poor wretch the bottle, and Kennedy drained the last drop with savage haste. "Thanks!" he murmured hoarsely, but Joe did not hear him, for both alike had dropped fainting on the sand. What took place during that fearful night neither of them knew, but, on Tuesday morning, under those showers of heat which the sun poured down upon them, the unfortunate men felt their limbs gradually drying up, and when Joe attempted to rise he found it impossible. He looked around him. In the car, the doctor, completely overwhelmed, sat with his arms folded on his breast, gazing with idiotic fixedness upon some imaginary point in space. Kennedy was frightful to b
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