“Where is Cunningham?” asked Paul Bird.
The wreck of the Speedaway was slowly settling into the river as the water rushed into it and the weight of the engine helped to drag it down.
The skipper of the towboat was now around on their side of the barge and five or six men had ropes, ready to cast them for a rescue.
Suddenly a head bobbed up out of the water. It was Fred Cunningham! There was a faint cry for help, and he sank again.
“Lanky, hold the light there. Paul, take the wheel and keep going around in a circle,” ordered Frank, at the same time grabbing the boy and pulling him into the cockpit.
Splash! Over the side of the Rocket went Frank Allen, to rescue the fellow who, if not actually his enemy, was certainly no friend to the boy who was risking his own life to keep him from drowning.
CHAPTER XX
WHEN ALL ENDS WELL
Though Frank Allen was an expert swimmer, the best in Columbia and the surrounding country, he found trouble in going to the aid of Fred Cunningham.
The explosion of the tank had spread blazing gasoline over the surface of the river; the wreck of the Speedaway was settling by the stern quite rapidly; the hundreds of splintered pieces were moving here and there, jagged and rough, a menace to the swimmer; the barge had come to a stop and was rocking to and fro while the tug held it.