The little boy mechanically obeyed, and clung with a grasp strengthened by his terror. In this position Dick could bear his weight better. But the ferry-boat was receding fast. It was quite impossible to reach it. The father, his face pale with terror and anguish, and his hands clasped in suspense, saw the brave boy’s struggles, and prayed with agonizing fervor that he might be successful. But it is probable, for they were now midway of the river, that both Dick and the little boy whom he had bravely undertaken to rescue would have been drowned, had not a row-boat been fortunately near. The two men who were in it witnessed the accident, and hastened to the rescue of our hero.
“Keep up a little longer,” they shouted, bending to their oars, “and we will save you.”
Dick heard the shout, and it put fresh strength into him. He battled manfully with the treacherous sea, his eyes fixed longingly upon the approaching boat.
“Hold on tight, little boy,” he said. “There’s a boat coming.”
The little boy did not see the boat. His eyes were closed to shut out the fearful water, but he clung the closer to his young preserver. Six long, steady strokes, and the boat dashed along side. Strong hands seized Dick and his youthful burden, and drew them into the boat, both dripping with water.
“God be thanked!” exclaimed the father, as from the steamer he saw the child’s rescue. “That brave boy shall be rewarded, if I sacrifice my whole fortune to compass it.”
“You’ve had a pretty narrow escape, young chap,” said one of the boatmen to Dick. “It was a pretty tough job you undertook.”
“Yes,” said Dick. “That’s what I thought when I was in the water. If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t know what would have ’come of us.”
“Anyhow you’re a plucky boy, or you wouldn’t have dared to jump into the water after this little chap. It was a risky thing to do.”
“I’m used to the water,” said Dick, modestly. “I didn’t stop to think of the danger, but I wasn’t going to see that little fellow drown without tryin’ to save him.”