"Run to the works and get assistance," exclaimed Peter, fancying that his supposed friend was in danger of slipping off the rocks into the swirling cauldron. "I can hold on some time yet."
Thoroughness was one of the spy's characteristics. Having undertaken to rescue his companion he was not going to be thwarted if it could be helped. Glancing around he spotted a stout branch of a tree lying on the ground. Its length was more than sufficient to bridge the distance between the projecting sides of the stream.
"Hold on for ten seconds, Barcroft," he exclaimed, and releasing his hold he made his way to the severed branch and secured it.
"Hang on!" he said, at the same time lifting Peter sufficiently to enable him to grip the span of wood. Then, pulling off his woollen scarf, he leant over the edge and passed it round Barcroft's waist, slackening the "bight" until it sank low enough to go round his companion's knees.
"Now," he continued, "together!"
With a steady heave von Eitelwurmer raised Peter's legs until his feet were fairly over the edge of the bank, while his head and body supported by the suspended branch were still hanging over the stream. So far so good. The German's next step was to shift the scarf until it formed a loop round Barcroft's shoulders. Another strong pull and the rescued man was lying safe but exhausted on the bank, while the two very wet dogs were frantically licking his face. The animals, after being carried down stream, had succeeded in finding a foothold, whence they had leapt clear of the dangerous stream.
"You've saved my life, Norton," said Peter, stating a perfectly obvious fact.
"It is nothing," protested von Eitelwurmer.
"Perhaps, but it is precious to me," rejoined Barcroft, unable, even in his exhausted condition, to resist the temptation of "pulling up" his companion for a badly-expressed declaration.
"What I did, I meant, of course," added the spy. "How about your cap?"