“Stand back!” cried Jack Ranger. “Stand back, or we’ll all be in the lake!”
They heeded his words, and moved toward the middle of the platform.
“Some one ought to go in after him,” said Pud Armstrong, his teeth fairly chattering from fright and nervousness. “I—I can’t swim.”
“Look out!” cried Jack. “I’m going in!”
He began pulling off the sweater which some of the lads had helped put on him, when he stepped from the shell all perspiration.
He poised for an instant on the edge of the float, looking down into the dark waters, beneath which Dock had disappeared, and then dived in.
“Get one of the boats out. Maybe he won’t come up near the float,” orderordered Sam Chalmers, and several lads hurriedly shoved out into the lake a broad barge, which could safely be used by Jack in getting Dock out of the water, if he was fortunate enough to find the youth.
“Queer he doesn’t come up,” spoke Glen in a whisper.
“Who—Dock or Jack?” asked Bony, cracking his finger knuckles in double relays.