Quickly Bob ran back and forth, searching desperately for something to throw to his unfortunate comrade. A sapling! A board! Oh, if he had a board! And as if a miracle, he caught sight of a long one lying among the trees. How it came there he did not know or care. That it was there was enough. He ran to it, snatched it up and, running to the edge of the bog, slid it carefully along until it was within Ben’s reach.
Carefully, wise now to the fact that the slightest movement made him sink deeper, Ben drew the board in front of him.
“Don’t bear your full weight upon it,” counselled Bob. “If you just press upon it lightly with your hands, perhaps it will hold you.”
Poor Ben, eager to do every slightest thing to help himself, obeyed and, as the board did not seem to sink, again hope sprang up in their hearts.
Bob wanted to go at once for the desperately needed help, but Ben, terrified at the thought of being left alone, begged him to wait a few minutes until they were sure the board would hold him up until Bob could go and return.
“Keep up your courage, old man,” said Bob. “If that board holds—and I feel sure it will—we’ll be all right. I’ll do a regular Marathon up to camp. Harry and Pete are cooks this week, you know. They will come back with me, and we’ll bring everything we can lay our hands on to help. It will be mighty strange if we three husky fellows can’t get one boy out of a fix! So you just be gay thinking about it, old fellow. We’ll have you out before you know it.”
As he finished speaking, Bob arose and with a last wave of encouragement to poor Ben, he started on a run for camp. But that Marathon was never run.
Hardly had Bob gone a hundred yards from the bog than he heard Ben’s imploring voice calling, “Come back, Bob! Come back! The board is beginning to sink!”
Bob came tearing back in answer to that pitiful summons to find that in truth the board was sinking a little in the mud. Beginning at the heavier end, it slowly sank out of sight, and as it disappeared drew the boy a little farther down.
He had now sunk halfway between the waist and shoulders. Now, indeed, did both Scouts begin to despair. Half-crazed, Bob ran wildly up and down, whistling shrilly, frantically searching for something with which to aid his comrade.