At the same time a youth of about their own age dashed in behind the man with the pistol, and dived between his legs, tripping him up. He doubled up like a jackknife, fell back against the gangway gate, which had not been properly fastened, and shot through it into the tideway, here very swift, and disappeared. The quickly raised cry of “Man Overboard,” reached the pilot house, the engine room gong boomed, the screw stopped and the “Queen” gradually lost headway.
CHAPTER II.
“SWIFTWATER JIM.”
The Scouts had joined in the cry which notified the pilot house that a man had gone overboard, but before the “Queen” lost headway and began to back the man in the water had slipped some distance astern. Life preservers and life rings were quickly thrown after him, but no sooner had the derelict come to the surface than it was seen that he was dazed and almost helpless from the effects, probably, of some injury he had sustained as he went through the gangway. Luckily, the gangway gate, which he had pushed out had floated alongside of him on the tideway, and he had retained consciousness enough to grasp one side of it with a drowning man’s grip, but was in danger of momentarily losing it. The boys with Colonel Snow at their head had rushed along the upper rail, where Rand began at once to strip off his coat and the soft canoe shoes he was wearing on shipboard, while Gerald followed suit. All the boys, as became trained Scouts, were good swimmers, but Rand pushed Gerald back, impetuously, saying:
“I’m the heavier, Gerald, let me go on this. It may be a fight,” and at the same time mounted the rail. As he did so, Colonel Snow seized a long thin line that hung for just such emergencies, on a spike at the rail, threw the knotted loop over Rand’s arm and shoulder, saying:
“These are cold waters, and you may need this. If it hampers you, cast it off, and take to the gangplank.”
Rand leaped from the rail, with his utmost strength, striving to escape the suction of the now backward-revolving screw, and struck out toward the man whose head was sinking under the surface, although his hands still grasped the gangplank with a feeble hold. With a dozen stalwart strokes, Rand reached the almost unconscious man, threw the loop from his own shoulder over his head and drew it under his arms and placed both his hands firmly upon the plank. Then grasping the bolt staple of the timber, himself, he yelled:
“Pull in; don’t back any further,” and in a few minutes willing and stalwart hands dragged them toward the steamer.