He ran to the base of the tree that overhung the stream just there, and climbed into its branches like a monkey. Then he made his way out on the limb that Will had so vainly tried to reach, until in a few seconds he was directly over his imperilled chum.
"Oh, I see now, Frank! It's a bully idea, all right!" cried the boy in the sand, the anxious look beginning to leave his face.
Frank hung on the limb and reached down his hand. He could just touch that of the lad below.
"I can't take hold! Oh! what shall I do, Frank? You can't reach me, and before the others come I may go under!" Will called, in new terror.
"I'm not trying to take your hand. What I want is for you to hand me up your camera, so as to have both hands free. There, that's it."
He hung the precious black box upon a branch of the tree.
Will, looking up piteously, saw him take off his coat. Then Frank slipped it down so that the sleeves dangled above the other's head.
"Take hold of those, one in each hand. Then bear yourself up as best you can by means of the coat, while I brace myself up here," he said.
