“Hold on then! We’re dropping a boat!”
The voice was fainter. Gerald swam out of the mist and made toward Kendall, calling to Harry. Harry replied and in a moment joined the others. “Take hold of the cushion,” Gerald panted. “It’ll hold you both up.”
“Take hold yourself,” said Harry, struggling for breath. “I’m all right. If I—didn’t have these shoes on——”
“I think this will hold us all up,” said Kendall weakly. He eased away from the cushion.
“Careful,” said Gerald. “Keep one arm over it. That’s it. Lay hold of a corner, Harry, and rest a bit.”
“I will if you will,” said Harry stubbornly.
“All right.” Gerald took a grip on the cushion and Harry followed suit, and although it sank a little it sustained them.
“They’re going to pick us up,” said Gerald. “All right, Kendall?”
“All right,” replied Kendall. But his teeth were chattering and he felt a little faint.
“If I could get this old sweater off,” Harry was muttering when a hail came across the water.