Westy tried to pull, taking a firmer hold on the fainting boy’s arm by twisting his own legs about the trunk to fortify himself. It was a terrible struggle, holding that inert body by one hand.
WESTY TRIED TO PULL, TAKING A FIRMER HOLD ON THE FAINTING BOY’S ARM.
He pulled again, and as he did so he felt his own person jerked roughly and his eyes dilated with horror as he saw what had happened.
Rip’s head had gone under!
CHAPTER XXIV—A THOUGHT FOR TO-MORROW
Westy never knew what great strength he had been given in that crucial moment. He only remembered afterward that every muscle in his body was strained to the utmost in being equal to that almost superhuman task.
It was enough to know that he finally pulled Rip out of the torrential current—unconscious; almost gone, but still a little life-giving breath left in the cold body.
A difficult thing to pull himself and his heavy burden over that slippery trunk. He thought he would never get to the cliff, so slow was his progress. But he made it and laid the still form face downward on the broad base.
Working tirelessly over the limp form to restore respiration, Westy noted some dark clouds gathering in the sky and partly obscuring the sun from view. He worked diligently, waiting to see the poor purpled lips utter a human sound.