"You can't swim, can you?" asked the captain.
"No—but—I don't want Sandy to drown!" panted Titus Lyon. "I've lost one son already in this war!"
"There is a boat—I'll get that and go after Sandy," answered Artie. "You stay here;" and he motioned for two cavalrymen standing near to hold Titus and thus prevent him from throwing himself into the rushing element.
The boat was a flat-bottomed affair, owned by an old fisherman of Caperton. The oars were handy, and Artie was soon on a seat in the craft. As he pushed off Life Knox leaped in beside him.
"Reckon two rowers are better nor one," said the tall Kentuckian, and without a word Artie tossed him an oar. Soon the boat was making good headway down the stream in the direction in which Sandy's head could be seen bobbing up and down.
"Help me!" he cried again. "I'm played out!"
"Keep up a little longer,—we are coming," replied Artie, encouragingly.
"I can't keep up—something is fast to my foo—" And the words ended in a gurgle, as Sandy suddenly disappeared.
"Why, what can this mean?" asked the young captain. "Has he caught his spurs into each other?"
"More than likely he got tangled up in one of those boat chains," remarked Life Knox. "I noticed the chains hanging around when the bridge was put down."