To his confusion, it was not flat underneath as he had expected. Instead, the craft was laced with four large metal tanks.
At the moment, Dan had no time to think of their significance or to wonder why they were there. Holding his breath, he groped about in the dark waters of the cool river.
He felt rather than saw the body which was wedged between the tanks in the very centermost portion of the raft.
Seizing Tim by an arm, Dan attempted to swim out with him. His head and shoulders came hard against the metal tanks and he could make no progress.
Dan’s breath now was growing short and he knew he must work fast. Treading water, he used both arms to try to free the imprisoned Cub.
At first he could not move the boy an inch. Then Dan’s hand encountered a jagged nail, and he realized that Tim’s clothing had speared on it.
With a hard jerk, he ripped the garment free. Then, with the limp form of the boy on his left hip, he swam and pulled them both toward the outer edge of the raft.
His heart began to pound and his lungs to feel as if they would explode. Could he keep going? He had to, Dan told himself. To abandon Tim never entered his thoughts. Only a stroke or two more—
When it seemed to Dan that he had reached the very end, a strong hand grasped his clothing. Both he and Tim, to whom he clung desperately, were hauled up onto the raft.
“Good work, Dan!” Mr. Hatfield’s praise rang in his ears. “You saved Tim.”