The little girl had struggled for a moment on the surface of the river and then sank out of sight.
One or two men in the midst of the confusion ran to get life-preservers, and everybody else, except Jack Hazard, seemed to be staggered by the calamity, and gazed out on the water with bulged eyes.
But the boy never lost his head.
Jack whipped off his jacket, mounted the rail, and leaped into the water.
He struck out lustily for the spot where the child had gone down, and presently saw one little arm and a portion of her golden hair appear on the surface not far away.
“There she is,” he murmured, and redoubled his efforts to reach her before she should go down again.
But she went under again before he could seize her, and the plucky boy dived.
Though encumbered by his clothes, Jack was so much at home in the water that he had little difficulty in following the descent of the bright-hued dress the child wore, and he had one arm about the unconscious little one in a brief space of time.
Kicking out with all his might, he rose to the surface like a duck.
A life-preserver floated near.