“Yes, and if any one lives there get them to come and help with a board or plank!”
Billy ran along the edge of the bluff toward the camp he could see some distance away, while Uncle Bill came out to the sheltered strip of beach where he saw Fred and Dudley striving to save Paul’s life.
It needed but a glance to make the whole situation clear, and in wild leaps the man reached the frantic group on the sand.
“Keep still, don’t move!” shouted Fred to the struggling Paul.
“The more you squirm and fight the deeper you go!” added Dudley, as Uncle Bill ran up behind them.
Fred was lying on his stomach trying to shove an old fence rail out to the boy. As he carefully guided it so that the end of the rail would slide over the sand and possibly be worked under the arm of the victim, he encouraged Paul with advice.
“When this rail comes near you, try to get your arm over it so it can be used as a brace for you. Then, I’ll try to work another out for your other arm.”
“Here, Fred, let me do that job while Dud and you run and get some more rails wherever you found these,” cried the welcome voice of Uncle Bill.
Both boys showed signs of great relief and confidence as they gave place to the man, and started for the rails of an old fence they had found while crossing the clearing near the bluff.
Meantime, Billy reached the camp but found no one there. It appeared to be a deserted fisherman’s hut but some old rope still hung coiled upon a hook driven in the side of the door-post.