“Dan! Dan!” shrieked Freddy, as, with the practised dive of the Wharf Rats, the lithe young form plunged into the water. “O Dan,—my Dan, the sharks will get you, too! Come back! Come back, Dan!”
Dan caught the words as he struck out blindly, desperately, almost hopelessly, through depths such as he had never braved before. For this was not the safe land-bound harbor; this was not the calm lap of the river around the sheltering wharf; this was a world of waters, seething, surging roaring around him, peopled with hunting creatures hungry for prey.
“Dan, Dan!” came his little chum’s piercing cry as he rose for breath.
“Come back, ye fool!” thundered Captain Jeb. “He’s gone, I tell ye,—the boy is gone down!”
But even at the shout something dark swept within touch of Dan’s outstretched arm; he made a clutch at it and grasped Dud,—Dud choking, gasping, struggling,—Dud, who sinking for the last time, caught Dan in a grip that meant death for both of them.
“Let go!” spluttered Dan, fiercely,—“let go! Let go or we’ll drown together!” And then, as the deadly clutch only tightened, Dan did what all Wharf Rats knew they must do in such cases—struck out with the full strength of his hardy young fist, and, knocking the clinging Dud’s fast-failing wits completely out of him, swam back with his helpless burden to the “Sary Ann.”
“The Lord, matey, but you are a game un!” said Captain Jeb, as he and Jim dragged Dud aboard.
“Ah, God have mercy upon the poor lad’s soul! It’s dead entirely he is!” sobbed Brother Bart.
“Not a bit of it!” said Dan, scrambling up the side of the “Sary Ann.” “He’s just knocked out. I had to knock him out, or he would have pulled me down with him. Roll him over a little, so he can spit out the water, and he’ll be all right.”
“Sure he is,—he is!” murmured Brother Bart, as Dud began to cough and splutter encouragingly. “It’s gone forever I thought he was, poor lad! Oh, God bless you for this day’s work, Dan Dolan,—bless you and keep you His forever!”