"Look! There he is, Frank!"
"That looks serious!" exclaimed the boy from Maine.
"What's he standing in the middle of that dinky little stream for, up to his waist in water? Why, he's getting all wet!"
Frank simply turned his head and shouted over his shoulder the one word:
"Quicksand!"
"Good gracious! Is that so?" gasped Bluff, as he ran, panting, after his chum.
In another minute the two stood on the bank.
"Oh! I'm so glad you came," said poor Will, "for I'm going down awful fast!"
Bluff was for dropping his gun and rushing out in the water to the assistance of his imperilled chum. It did his heart credit, this impulsiveness, but just then, no doubt, it was well that he had a comrade near by possessed of a cooler head, or there might soon have been a pair of them in the quicksand.
"Stop! None of that, Bluff!" said Frank, clutching him by the arm.