To the intense satisfaction of those on board the schooner he again came quickly to the surface, this time dragging by the hair the boy to whose rescue he had gone. Swimming on his back, using but one hand, Jimmie slowly brought the other lad to a position where he could reach the buoy flung to him by Ned’s strong arm.
Harry had already made a bowline in a bight at the end of a line. This he passed over the side to Jimmie, who succeeded without difficulty in getting the loop over the shoulders of the rescued lad.
Soon both were on deck, where they received the attentions of all hands. Captain von Kluck insisted upon giving the newcomer a draught of “schnapps” to assist in the reviving process. As the fiery liquor burned its way down his throat the lad coughed violently.
Choking and spitting the lad clawed at his burning mouth and throat. Evidently he thought the cure worse than the disease.
“Let’s get into the cabin,” suggested Jimmie. “I’m freezing!”
“Sure enough!” cried Ned. “How thoughtless of us! Captain,” he added, “can you have the steward bring us some coffee?”
Roaring for the steward to perform this service, the captain picked up the nearly drowned lad in his strong arms. He deposited the boy on a locker in the cabin, then stood aside to permit his passengers to administer such assistance as they might.
Ned stepped forward to begin operations. With a cry he bent over the boy. Wonderingly the others crowded forward.
“Frank!” cried Ned, seizing the lad by the shoulders. “Frank! Speak to me! Frank, how did you get here?”
“Who is it?” asked Jimmie, elbowing his way into the group to a position where he could see the recumbent figure. “Why,” continued the boy in a tone of amazement, “if it ain’t old Frank Shaw of New York!”