Hodge saw this movement, and wondered at it, but said nothing to Merriwell, feeling that Frank needed to give his entire attention to the task of getting ashore with Welch.
Nearer and nearer to the shore Merriwell struggled. He moved slower and slower, and it was plain that the task was a heavy drain upon his energy and endurance. Bart feared that Frank would give out, but this did not happen. Finally Hodge said:
“I think you can stand up here, Merry. Try it—see if your feet will touch bottom.”
Frank did so, and found he could touch the bottom and have his head out of the water, which enabled him to walk ashore.
Bart got out upon the beach and helped Frank drag Welch upon the sand. Merriwell was panting, but he regarded with the greatest anxiety the lad he had brought to land.
“He’s drowned!” cried Hodge. “He is done for, Frank!”
“Off with your coat!” exclaimed Merriwell, panting. “Give me my coat and shoes from the canoe. Quick! We must hustle if we bring him round!”
Taking the shoes, Frank wrapped the coat about them, making a hard roll or bundle. Then he placed the bundle on the beach, and, aided by Bart, lay Welch, face down, upon it so it pressed upon his stomach. Having placed the unconscious lad in this position, with the collar of his shirt ripped open, Merriwell began pressing upon his back just below his shoulder blades, and with each pressure water spurted from the lad’s mouth.
“If we can get him to breathing after we get this water out of him, he’ll come round,” said Frank, anxiously.
They did not work more than a minute before Welch choked and groaned, causing Frank to express relief.