Dan heard and made a supreme effort. Though his breath was coming hard, his muscles offering painful complaint, he deliberately forced himself into a faster rhythm. The current swung him, but as he passed the bush, the boy lunged for it.
Achieving a handhold, he clung fast. The river swung his feet from beneath him, tugging and jerking. But still Dan held on as he struggled to regain his breath.
“The boat, Dan!” he heard Brad shout. “Get it quick! It’s drifting away!”
The boy’s weight on the bush had dislodged the craft, which now was moving slowly off down river.
With an indignant snort, Dan plunged downstream in pursuit. Two strokes enabled him to grasp the craft by its trailing painter.
But the next instant, both he and the boat were brought up with a hard jerk. A sharp pain shot through his waist where the rope had been tied.
“Hold fast to the boat!” Mr. Hatfield instructed. “We’ll pull you in.”
Against the current, the Cub leader and Brad slowly pulled hand over hand until Dan was in shallow, quiet water. There he was able to get to his feet and drag the boat to shore.
“Good work, Dan!” Mr. Hatfield praised, reaching out to help him. “For a minute I thought you were going to be swept past the bush.”
“So did I,” grinned Dan. “Lucky you insisted I tie that rope around my waist. Otherwise, I’d have had a hard time of it.”