“More than likely. They usually strap themselves and their passengers fast to keep from falling out.”
“If they can’t loosen the straps they’ll surely be drowned.”
“Come on, fellows, row for all you’re worth! A second gained may mean a life!” yelled Jack.
“Say, wasn’t that Ruth Stevenson?” came from the second boat.
“Yes,” answered Fred. “Hurry up! We’ve got to save them!”
All this conversation came in jerks, for every cadet was working frantically at his oar in a mad endeavor to reach the sinking aeroplane. They were almost up to the spot when they heard a queer gurgle and suddenly the big flying machine slid from view under the surface of the lake.
“It’s going down!” cried Randy, glancing hastily around.
By this time the first rowboat had reached the scene of the accident and all of the boys threw down their oars to get a better view of the situation. The water was much disturbed, and in the foam created by the disappearing flying machine could be seen two men struggling, one with some sort of strap fastened around him.
“Help! Help! I can’t swim!” cried one of the men, and Jack recognized Mr. Stevenson’s voice.