“I saw something!” cried Fred, presently, while they were straining their eyes to pierce the gloom around them.
“Where?” questioned his cousin, eagerly.
“There! To the left! It’s gone now!”
“What did it look like, Fred?”
“I may be mistaken, but it looked like somebody floundering around in the water.”
“Let’s yell to him.” And then both boys cried out as loudly as their exhausted condition permitted.
“Who’s calling? Where are you?” came from out of the darkness, and the next instant the two boys saw the form of somebody on the top of a wave close at hand.
“Here we are—on some wreckage!” shouted Jack. “Be careful, or you’ll get struck!”
“Help me! I’m almost done for!” gasped the swimmer, and for the moment disappeared in the trough of the sea.
Throwing himself flat on the wreckage, Jack crawled to the edge. A second later he saw an arm in the water and grasped it tightly. Then out of the briny deep came Ira Small, spluttering and kicking convulsively.