While Tom manoeuvred the Argo, the other three watched the swimmers. Both were making fair headway, the Amoussock captain somewhat in the lead. Then suddenly Larry threw up his hands and disappeared.
Tom swung the sailboat around, and almost instantly Ben and David, coats and shoes stripped off, dove into the water. For the moment the sea was calmer, and the two made the most of their chance. Hand over hand, in great spurts, they drew closer and closer to the place where Larry had vanished.
Tom said things to the sail, which would not fill as he wanted. Tuckerman clutched the rail, his eyes never leaving the swimmers. And at last—an eternity, it seemed to the watcher—the two boys reached the spot. A moment later, and in some way they had managed to draw Larry up between them.
By now the Amoussock captain had turned and was swimming back; and by now Tom had contrived to make the Argo behave. With a rush she arrived where the boys were struggling in the waves. Ben clutched at the side; with his other hand he helped David lift Larry up into Tuckerman’s arms.
Larry was hauled aboard. David and Ben climbed in. The other boy was pulled up from the water.
The Argo, restive, cavorting, commenced to dance again. “Can’t stop to pick up the canoe,” muttered Tom. “Thank Heaven, Lanky’s all right!”
Larry, very white and shivering, was rubbing the muscles of his legs. “It was a cramp,” he explained. “Doubled me up in a minute.”
Tuckerman put his coat around Larry’s shoulders. “Never mind, never mind,” he kept murmuring. “We’ll have you up at my house in a couple of jiffies.”
And, the wind blowing great guns, but keeping in a fairly steady direction, the Argo soon reached the island. By that time Larry, assisted by Tuckerman, had managed to rub the kinks out of his leg muscles, and was able to hobble ashore.
Cold, and drenched, and all of them shivering more or less, the party went up to the house. “The kitchen’s the place,” said Tuckerman. “There’s plenty of firewood there.”