“Good for Andy!” cried Jack.
“If only the limb will bend down far enough,” added Pepper.
Soon the acrobatic youth was close to the outer end of the limb. He bent down, but his hand did not come within a foot of Gus Coulter’s reach.
“I—I can’t ma—make it!” gasped the boy below. His face was full of abject fear.
“Wait a minute,” answered Andy.
He turned over, and the next moment was hanging from the limb by his feet, which he had crossed one over the other. Thus he was able to reach Coulter with ease.
“Look out, Andy, that you don’t go down, too,” cautioned Jack.
“And take care that the limb doesn’t break,” added Pepper.
Slowly but surely Andy began to draw poor Gus Coulter from the muck. It was a severe strain on the acrobatic youth, and his muscles stood out like whipcords, while his face, from hanging down, became purple. The tree limb bent low, until the outer leaves swept the swamp hole.
“I don’t think he’ll make it,” was the comment of one of the cadets, but even as he spoke there was a sucking sound and up came Coulter, and the tree limb bounded several feet higher.