The young pilot felt perfectly safe when Bob came in sight, but even then he was not out of danger, for it was all Bob could do to reach him. He was obliged to swim some distance against a strong current in order to do it, and had the boat been ten feet farther away he would have failed in the attempt. As it was, he was entirely out of breath when he seized the hand George extended to him, and it was fully five minutes before he could speak to him. George saw that he was almost exhausted, and waited patiently for him to recover himself.
“Was that man your uncle?” said Bob, at length.
“What made you ask about him?” inquired George.
“O, I was just thinking,” said Bob, indifferently.
“Yes, and I can tell you what you were thinking about. You think it strange that he should want you to save him, and leave me to go down.”
“O, when men are as frightened as he was, they are not themselves,” replied Bob.
“There’s something in that; but would you believe me if I were to say that, if he were the best swimmer in the world, he would not try to save me if he saw me sinking?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” replied Bob, promptly.
“Then I won’t say so. Isn’t it getting a little too hot and smoky here?”
Bob thought it was; and having by this time fully recovered his breath, he was ready to trust himself to the current again. George, being duly instructed, placed his hand upon his shoulder, allowed himself to swing back out of reach of Bob’s arms, and in this way was towed from the burning steamer. Bob swam as straight across the river as the current would allow him to go, and at the end of twenty minutes seized some overhanging bushes on the bank. He helped George to climb out, and George in turn assisted him; for by this time Bob was nearly exhausted.