"Help! Help! Help!" cried Alec at the top of his voice.
But the boat continued to chug steadily upstream, its rhythmic put-put-put-put drowning out all sound of Alec's feeble cries. Again and again Alec called for help, but the boat went steadily on. It passed the craft moored below Alec. It came abreast of the oyster-float. Still Alec's cries were unheard. As the boat came directly opposite him, Alec gathered his remaining strength for a last effort and fairly screamed, "Help! Help! Help!"
There was a sudden commotion on the motor-boat. The steersman rose to his feet and peered into the darkness. A second man shut off the engine.
"Hello!" hailed a voice from the boat. "Where are you?"
"Back of the oyster-float near shore," cried Alec. "I'm stuck in the mud."
"Stand still and we'll get you in a minute," came the quick response.
"Put-put-put," went the little motor-boat again, and in another moment it was alongside the float. A sailor leaped from the boat, with a coil of rope in his hand. He splashed his way across the float, calling, "Where are you?"
"Right here," called Alec, raising his arms above the water and waving them in air.
"Catch this rope," answered the sailor, and a line came whizzing straight into Alec's upraised arms.
"I've got it," said Alec.