“Come on, let’s carry him,” suggested Nat.
“Never mind—here comes Hexter!” cried Bony.
As he spoke the chug-chugging of an automobile was heard, and a touring car came along the road down to the float. It was a machine kept at Washington Hall, and used by the teachers, and, occasionally, when Hexter, the chauffeur, would allow it, by the students.
“Dr. Mead sent me down to see what the matter was,” said Hexter as he stopped the car. “He saw a crowd on the float and thought something might have happened.”
“There has,” replied Sam. “Here, Hexter, help us get Dock into the car, and then throw on all the speed you’ve got, if you have to blow out a spark-plug.”
“Is he—is he dead?” asked Hexter quickly.
“No; only stunned. Lively, now!”
Hexter aided the boys in lifting Dock into the machine, and then he made speed to the school, where the injured lad was cared for by Dr. Henry Mead, the master of Washington Hall.
“Well, that was an exciting finish to the race,” remarked Jack as he walked up from the float to the shore, surrounded by some of his chums, after Dock had been taken away.
“He oughtn’t to try to row,” said Fred Kaler. “He hasn’t got the staying powers.”