“George Andrews, there, is trying to save him,” Will said, pointing at the swimmer.
“Humph! much he’ll do!” growled the rustic. “Well, I’m going to set here (at this Marmaduke shuddered) till that boy is lost or saved. Its my duty to the Government, and I’ll do it if it takes all day.”
His duty to the Government, however, did not prompt him to take an active part in rescuing Bob, and he stretched himself along the bank and looked on with dogged composure.
George did not know of this man’s arrival. He swam bravely, but gained on the raft very slowly. His heart sank when he saw this, but he kept on hopefully, and just at the critical moment the raft grounded on a snag, and was held fast. Bob was saved! Not through human agency, however.
Bob ceased from howling, and George called out cheerily: “You are all right, Bob; and I’m—”
At that instant a little wave washed down his throat and effectually cut him short.
He had never swum so close to the falls, but he proceeded warily, and managed it so that the shock of striking the raft eased it off the snag. Then he scrambled on board, took up an oar, and for a full minute feared that the current would carry them both over. But the raft was brought under control, and slowly, very slowly, rescuer and rescued left their dangerous position.
“Bob, when we get a little farther up, I’ll try and get you out of that, and then we can go faster, if you will help.”
The joyful cries of the boys now attracted his attention, and, to his horror, he perceived that some person was with them.
“Oh, Bob,” he groaned, “who is that man on the bank?”