“And so you think you can dive,” old Captain Savage said, “or is that just boy scout talk? Do I stand a chance of getting upstream and down ag’in to-night, or not. Where do you say that key-bar is?”
You can bet I knew just exactly where it was. It was under the east span of the bridge and just underneath about the fifth or sixth plank from the centre. I knew it was hard bottom down there, too. So Captain Savage and the other man he had gave me a thin rope and we fastened one end on the deck. I tied the other end of it around my waist in a loose French sailor’s knot, so I could pull it off without any trouble under water.
Then I dived. I had to come up a couple of times without it, but the third time I got hold of it lying on the rocks, and quick as a flash I loosened the rope from my waist and tied it onto the key-bar. Then I came up, sputtering.
ROY DIVED AFTER THE KEY-BAR
“Pull,” I sputtered, “you’ve got it; only pull easy.” Then I scrambled up on the deck.
Believe me in less than a minute the tug-man and Westy and Pee-wee were on the bridge and had the key-bar fixed in its socket. Then we started to push and around she went—slow at first, then faster.
Oh, boy, wasn’t I glad to see old General Grant march through. Just as I was going to get in the rowboat, Captain Savage stuck his head out of the window and shouted, “Here you, youngster; you come in here. We have to overhaul accounts.”
“Scouts don’t accept anything for a service,” Westy shouted.
“I ain’t a-talking to you,” Captain Savage shouted; “you other feller, scramble aboard and come up here! Don’t they learn you nothin’ about obedience in them thar scouts—huh? You scramble up on board here like I tell you!”