There was a wild shout as the other boys followed, and they were close on Bobby’s heels when he reached the boathouse.
There were several boats in the house, most of them laid up in canvas coverings, as the weather was becoming so cold that the lake offered no special attraction. One boat, however, and luckily the one nearest the doors, was available, and to this Bobby rushed.
“Lend a hand, some of you fellows!” he called. “Some one get two pairs of oars from the rack. Hurry now! We can’t waste a second.”
In a moment the oars were handed down and put in the boat and Bobby had thrown open the sliding doors.
Willing hands helped him to push the boat down the slanting way that led to the float.
“Four of us can go in this,” cried Bobby. “You, Fred, and you, Sparrow, and—”
“Let me go,” begged Lee, whose eyes were burning with excitement. “I’ve had a good deal of practice in rowing and I can handle an oar as well as any one.”
“All right,” agreed Bobby. “Into the water now with the boat.”
The rowboat was shoved into the water and held to the float by Skeets and Shiner, while Bobby and his three mates tumbled in, grasped the oars and pulled off.
By this time it was plainly to be seen that the endangered boat was much lower in the water than it was when it had first been seen. The gunwales were almost flush with the level of the lake, and the two who had been rowing had abandoned the oars, as it was impossible to drag the heavily laden water-logged boat through the water. The occupants had thrown off their coats, and two of them were tugging away at their shoes, preparatory to the swim for life that seemed inevitable.