Feeling the shock of the cold water, Rollings's first instinctive act was to try to keep himself afloat. Curiously, he would not, at first, let go of the iron box, which, with its contents, weighed many pounds.
Now, over the top of a rolling wave Ted Dyer's head appeared. All this had taken place in a few seconds.
"You want to catch me—you want the money!" sputtered Rollings, expelling a spray of water from his mouth. "You shall do neither!"
Clutching tightly at the box as an aid to his own drowning, Frank Rollings let himself go beneath the surface.
Promptly Ted went down after him, swimming straight and lustily.
Another figure sprang forward and downward, shark-like, through the water. This was Tom Halstead, who, with his stoutest strokes, had just reached the scene.
Between them Tom and Ted succeeded in seizing the box. By a common impulse, for they could not talk, they forced it from Rollings, rising to the surface.
"Blub-bub-bub—whew!"
Rollings, rising to the surface, made that noise as he fought for breath. The cashier, an excellent swimmer, saw the two boys, a dozen feet away, swimming and holding up the box.
"Neither me nor the money shall you have!" he roared, striking out at a strong overhand swimming gait. He was almost upon them like a flash.