"I'll try it, fellows!" exclaimed Darrin. Down went Dave. He
soon came up, treading water. As soon as he had blown out a mouthful
of water he exclaimed:
"I found Dan, but I couldn't stay under long enough. He went
down with the canoe. He's lying in it now."
"Look out, there! We'll pick you up," called a voice from the
launch, which now darted toward the boys. A bell for half speed,
then another for "stop" sounded, and the hull of the launch divided
the frightened swimmers.
"Let me get aboard!" cried Dick, taking a few lusty over-hand
strokes.
Willing hands hauled him into the launch at the bow, while girls'
cries and anxious questions filled the air.
"What's the matter?"
"Who-----"
But Dick waited to answer no one. Standing in the bow of the
launch, he pointed his hands, then dived into the river.
While he was below the surface of the water the other canoeists
swam alongside, helping themselves aboard.
"Oh, Dave!" cried Laura Bentley. "What's wrong?"
"Dan Dalzell hasn't come up," Darrin choked. "Here, clear the
way. I'm going down after Dick."
He was gone like a flash. Seconds ticked by while a score of
pale faces watched over the side of the launch.
Then, at last, up shot Dave. He was followed almost instantly
by Dick, his arms wrapped around the motionless form of Dan Dalzell.
"Get close and we'll haul you in!" called Tom Reade, a boat-hook
in his hand.
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