A bareback rider in a circus never
had such work as this. Rafe rode his wooden horse in masterly
style.
There, ahead of him in the boiling flood, an arm and head
appeared. Turner came to the surface with his senses unimpaired
and he strove to clutch the nearest log. But the stick slipped
away from him.
Rafe ran forward on the plunging timber he now rode the huge
stick that had made all the trouble, and tried to reach the man
in the water. No use!
Of course, there was no way for Rafe to guide his log toward the
drowning man. Nor did he have anything to reach out for Turner
to grasp. The axe handle was not long enough, and the foreman's
canthook had disappeared.
Below, the men were struggling to get the big boat out from under
the bank into the stream. Two of them stood up with their
canthooks to fend off the drifting logs; the others plied the
heavy oars.
But the boat was too far from the man in the river. He was
menaced on all sides by plunging logs. He barely escaped one to
be grazed on the shoulder by another. A third pressed him under
the surface again; but as he went down this second time, Rafe
Sherwood threw away his axe and leaped into the flood!
Chapter XIX
OLD TOBY VANDERWILLER
Nan was sure her Cousin Rafe would be drowned, as well as his
foreman.
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