“The boat! the boat! It’s nearer!” cried Sam, for Jack had come up at some distance from the little pier and closer to the rowboat which had put out from shore.
Jack heard and understood. Turning, he began swimming toward the craft, and the lads in it rowed toward him. A few seconds later Jack had clutched the gunwale, holding Dock’s head out of water.
Several eager hands reached down to grasp our hero.
“Take—take him first,” he said pantingly. “I’m—I’m all right.”
Dock was hauled into the boat.
“Now row ashore. I’ll swim it,” went on Jack. “Get the water out of him as soon as you can. He—he was right on the bottom. Struck—struck on the—on the float, I guess.”
“We’ll take you in,” cried Bob Movel.
“Sure! There’s lots of room,” added Fred Kaler.
“No. Get Dock on shore,” ordered Jack, and they obeyed.