A bend in the rocky wall hid the light of the candles from the raft. After several minutes of paddling Bob caught the faint light ahead of him.
"I'm all right now, if Steve is only all right."
"Is he alive?" called Mr. Penton, as he made out the strange craft bearing slowly down upon him.
"Yes, but he's unconscious."
"Then hurry as fast as you can."
"I am hurrying. This isn't a speed boat."
The plank drew up alongside the raft after some difficult manœuvring on the part of Bob Jarvis. Mr. Penton grasped the limp form of Steve Rush, hauling him to the raft.
There was a splash and a choking exclamation. The plank had turned turtle, landing Bob in the water on his back. The boy was almost exhausted, but he righted himself and swam to the raft, to which he held for a moment to rest himself. He then clambered to the raft. He had barely enough strength left to support himself.
The superintendent was tying Steve in the sling that the men had made.
"Haul away, above there!" he roared. "Be as quick as you can, but be careful. Look out, there! What are you trying to do?"