Tying the end of a long rope about his waist, Jerry leaped overboard. He struck the spot where Harry had gone down and felt in every direction for his chum.
His hand touched an arm, and then he held Harry fast and brought him to the surface. The poor boy was too weak to make the first movement.
“Haul in on the rope, Blumpo!” called Jerry.
Turning the tiller over to Dora Vincent, the homeless youth did as directed.
Jerry, with his burden, was soon brought alongside.
It was no easy matter to hoist Harry on deck in the storm, but at last it was accomplished, and Jerry followed his charge.
Harry was unconscious, and he was taken to the cabin, where Dora and the other girls did all in their power for him; and then the Cutwater was headed for Lakeview, two miles distant.
The hurricane, or whatever it might be called, had by this time spent itself. The rain ceased and before the lake town came into view the sun shone once more as brightly as ever.
Clarence Conant came on deck looking very much annoyed. He felt that he had played the part of a coward, and knew he would have no easy time of it to right himself in the eyes of the young ladies.
“The—ah—truth is, I was very sick,” he explained to Jerry. “I got a—ah—spasm of the—ah—heart.”