As my old readers know, the young major was an excellent swimmer and he struck out with vigor for the spot where his cousin had disappeared.
In less than a minute after Jack left the boat Andy managed to reach the craft and was pulled on board by Fred and Gif. Then the motor boat was turned in the direction where Jack was swimming.
“Be careful, Pud. We don’t want to hit anybody,” cautioned Fred. And then he and some others helped Phil Franklin to clamber aboard.
“I’ll be careful,” answered the man at the wheel. “Confound those fellers on that steam yacht! They’re to blame!”
“It’s a steam yacht from up the lake—Jocelyn,” said a cadet. “It belongs to the crowd that hangs around the Outlook Hotel.”
A minute of vigorous swimming brought Jack to the place where he had seen Randy go down. Filling his lungs with air, he dove beneath the surface, keeping his eyes wide open for whatever might appear.
He saw his cousin a few yards away, struggling feebly to regain the surface. In another moment he was at Randy’s side and then both came up as quickly as possible.
“Oh, Jack, I’m so glad you came after me!” were Randy’s first words, coming with severe gasps. “I was afraid I was a goner.”
“What was the matter, Randy, that you couldn’t swim better? Were you struck or was it a cramp?”
“Neither. It was the silver trophy. I tried to save it, but it was too heavy for me.”