“Come on,” said Dan. “Let’s see what’s up.”
So they quickened their pace, turned off from the road, and made their way to the float.
“What’s the matter?” asked Dan.
“There’s a dog under here,” explained a youth. “We were throwing pieces of wood for him and he was fetchin’ them out. Then, first thing we knew, the current took him somehow and sucked him under the float. He’s there now. Hear him?”
They listened and presently there came a faint, smothered yelp from under the planks almost at their feet. By that time half the inhabitants of the float had joined them, eager to tell all about it.
“How long has he been under there?” asked Bob.
“Ten minutes.”
“Five minutes.”
“Three minutes.”
The answers were varied. The boys hurried over to the side. The tide was running out hard and the river, flowing through the narrow culvert under the bridge, made a strong current which swirled against the float until it tugged at its moorings.