“All right, Patsy,” said Chick. “Mind your eye and be careful that the tree doesn’t turn with you.”
Patsy started, made his way into the branches, knelt down, and cut the rope from Nick’s hands.
Nick was then able to help, and his rescue was not long in being effected.
On reaching the bank, he dropped down for a moment, completely exhausted.
“Wouldn’t this give you a jolt?” muttered Patsy, as he cut the rope from Nick’s ankles. “They expected him to swim with his hands and feet tied.”
“They expected me to go to the bottom,” returned Nick, “and I’d have done it, too, if you and Chick hadn’t been handy by.”
He arose to his feet.
“We haven’t any time to waste here,” he went on, giving himself a shake and throwing as much water as he could out of his soaked clothing. “Where’s the auto?”
“On the turnpike, about a hundred yards away,” replied Chick.
“Then let’s get to it and keep on after that outfit. They’re making for the Canadian line, and we’ve got to stop them before they get across.”