“Pull, Springer—pull for all you’re worth!” he commanded.
The driving blast of wind aided in speeding them toward the imperiled fellow.
“If he gets hold of this canoe he’ll upset it!” palpitated Piper.
Simpson’s head disappeared from view and was not seen again for several moments, after which his frantic efforts shot his body above the surface halfway to the waist line. Gulping, gasping, terrified by the experience through which he was passing, the fellow turned his blanched face and appealing eyes toward the three boys who were now bearing down upon him.
Almost invariably persons who find themselves in deep water and cannot swim strive desperately to lift their bodies as high as possible and thus aid in their own undoing, and this was precisely what Jim Simpson did. Had he simply paddled gently with his hands and held his breath whenever his head went under, lacking in a rudimentary knowledge of swimming though he was, he might have kept afloat for some moments; by his tremendous struggles, however, he baffled himself and made it imperative that his would-be rescuers should reach him quickly.
“He’s gone—he’s gone again!” screamed Sleuth, as Grant once more slightly altered the course of the canoe.
“Keep down! Keep low in the canoe and sit steady!” commanded Rodney. Then, rising, he did a difficult thing to do under the most favorable circumstances; he dove headlong from the canoe without upsetting it. With three strong strokes beneath the water he reached Simpson, whose collar he grasped with one hand at the back of the neck. They rose together, the Texan holding the other off and striking out as well as he could for the capsized boat.
HE DOVE HEADLONG FROM THE CANOE WITHOUT
UPSETTING IT. —Page 230.
The excited boys watching from the point uttered a cheer. Then the rain swept over the lake in a tremendous blinding cloud, shutting from their view the canoe, its occupants, and the two fellows in the water.