"Hello," sang out the Codfish.
"We've found them and we're coming back," yelled Frank at the top of his voice, for the wind was beginning to breeze up with the incoming tide. "Have an eye out for us; we'll be with you in five minutes. Come on," he said, turning to the boys behind him, "it's now or never! This channel is getting wider and there's nothing to be gained by waiting." He took another step and began to swim.
The others followed silently. Soon they were gripped by the current and began their fight to the other side. The current was more savage, if anything, than when Jimmy and Frank had crossed it a few minutes before. Desperately they battled with it for their lives.
"I can't make it," groaned Peters from behind. "I can't make it. Help me!"
"Don't give up," shouted Frank encouragingly. "Keep at it, old fellow," and Frank stopped swimming for a moment till Peters drew alongside him. Elbow to elbow the two boys swam, as they had swum but a few hours before in the race, but now it was a battle for life. Frank's encouraging words buoyed up the New Yorker's drooping spirits.
"Only a few strokes more," he kept repeating. "Stick it out."
Bates swam doggedly behind without a word.
"I'm touching," yelled Jimmy. "I'm touching. We're safe, we're safe!"
The shout put heart into Peters, who drove ahead with all his remaining strength, and soon the four lay panting on a little shelf of rock with more bare rock just in front of them. They were indeed over the worst part of it.
But just as they struggled to safety, there came a tremendous yelling from the direction of the boat.