"We'll go together," said Jimmy determinedly. "I will not let you go alone."
"What, and leave us here?" cried Peters.
"For goodness sake, what do you expect? You won't swim and you don't want us to swim. Don't you see, you coward, that it's the only chance we have?" Jimmy was all out of patience with this boy for whose safety they had placed themselves in such a plight. "Keep a stiff upper lip and we'll have some one back here in a jiffy."
Peters seemed not to hear. He sat down again plainly sobbing. "You'll stay with me, Bates," he blurted out. "Don't you leave me."
"I couldn't if I wanted to," said that silent boy. "I couldn't make half the distance. I never swam a mile in my life."
"All right, then," said Jimmy. "You two go onto the highest point of this rock, and every now and then make all the noise you can on the chance that some one might hear you," and he began stripping off what few clothes he had on.
"Hold on," said Frank. "This is my job, Jimmy. There's no use of both of us trying to swim it. You stay here——" He got no further.
"What do you take me for?" burst out Jimmy indignantly. "I'm going with you and that settles it. We might be able to help each other. I can't do anything waiting here, and I might be of some help to you. Let's not spend any more time arguing about it. I'm ready."
He was, as he said, ready. And be it known that Frank, while he was willing to undertake the peril of the trip alone, felt better that his friend and tried companion would be with him through the terrors of the water. He did not argue any more about it, but stretched out his hand in the darkness, and the two boys clasped hands in a long, firm grasp.
"All right, here we go!" said Frank. "Good-by, Peters; keep your courage up and stick to the highest part of the rock."