He saw that Fred, by a great effort, had raised the little fellow, and actually pushed him into the canoe, which had not overturned when it threw its occupant into the treacherous river, though the craft was much waterladen.
And now the rescuer was starting to swim back toward the shore, urging the little craft along with him.
Bristles Carpenter had actually started into the river, and was already almost up to his waist when he chanced to remember that he was accounted one of the poorest swimmers among the Riverport boys.
"Don't come out, Bristles; stay there and try to give me a hand!"
From the way Fred called this, it was evident that his recent exertions must have quite exhausted him; and that he felt the need of some assistance, in order to get ashore with the canoe. The current was particularly strong at this place, it being accounted one of the danger spots of the Mohunk; and it seemed averse to letting its intended victim get away from its grip.
Once Bristles had caught hold of Fred's arm he braced himself, and soon the other was able to get his feet on the bottom.
Together they drew the canoe to the shore.
"Why, hello! here's a queer thing!" exclaimed Bristles, as, having clambered out of the river he bent down to look at the half-drowned lad in the canoe; "did you know it was little Billy Lemington you yanked out of the water?"
"Yes, I knew it all along," replied Fred, as he squeezed some of the water from his trousers, and then leaned over to see how the boy was coming on.
Considering what a narrow escape little Billy had just had, he seemed to be pretty well off. He had swallowed some water, it was true, and his face was ashen white; but he could get up on his knees, and was soon feeling better.