“I wish I could do something,” said Dick, as if talking with himself, “but I see no way.”
“There is none,” added McGovern, who was speedily recovering from the ordeal through which he had passed, “but it is too bad; I would do anything I could for poor Bob and Tom.”
It seemed hopeless indeed, but Dick could not stand idle, knowing that others near him might be in most imminent need of help.
“If they are alive, which I don’t believe,” said McGovern, “they must have drifted below us by this time.”
“I agree with you,” replied Dick, moving slowly along the margin of the torrent, which, on account of the unevenness of the ground, encroached at times and compelled them to retreat for a brief space; “I should think if they were alive they would call for help.”
“Did you hear me?” asked McGovern, looking round in the face of his companion.
“Yes, though I happened to be quite near when the flood came, and had to scramble myself to get out of the way—”
“Hark!” interrupted McGovern, “that was a voice!”
“So it was, and it is below us!”
As he spoke he broke into a run, with the larger youth at his heels. They had caught a cry, but it was so smothered and brief that it was impossible to tell the point whence it came, except that it was below them.