The boys looked at one another in horror.
Fred was the first to recover from his paralysis. He kicked off his shoes and thrust the rope of the sheet into Teddy’s hand.
“Hold this, Ted,” he commanded, “and do just what Lester tells you to do. You, Bill, hold on tight to this end of the line,” he added, picking up a coil at his feet, “and I’ll take the other. Leave plenty of slack till you see me come up.”
Almost before they knew what he intended to do, Fred dived overboard.
The sides of the Ariel were high and his dive carried the boy far down. Down, down he went, looking through the dim green waters for a white 13 face and limp form. But his efforts were useless and he came up for air.
“There he is!” were the first words he heard, as he shook his head and looked around. “Over there to the right. Grab him, Fred, before he goes down again.”
Fred made a wild clutch at an object just beside him, and his fingers clutched an arm. He held on desperately, despite the waves that sought to tear him away.
“You’ve got him!” yelled Bill. “Hold tight now and I’ll pull you in.”
There was no movement in the limp form, which made it easier for his preserver. Holding tightly with one hand to the rope which had never left his grip, and grasping his unconscious burden with the other, Fred was drawn to the side of the Ariel by Bill’s muscular arms. But the strength of all three was necessary to lift the two of them on board, so Lester had to abandon the rudder, while Teddy left the sheet to help. They succeeded at last, after a vast amount of tugging and straining, and laid the stranger’s body on the deck, while Fred slumped down beside him trying to get back his breath.
“Why, it isn’t a man at all!” exclaimed Bill. “It’s a boy and I don’t believe he’s any older than we are.”