Then, with a heave that caused the little boat to dip at a dangerous angle, he hoisted the young fellow aboard and dropped him splashing against the stern thwarts.
There was plenty of life in him, and Matt felt, just then, that the boat required more attention than he did. After getting the Sprite back on her proper course, Matt slowed her speed and looked around.
The young fellow was sitting up in the bottom of the boat, leaning back against the rear thwarts. He was about Matt's own age, his hands were slender and white, and his sweater, trousers, and shoes were of the most expensive material.
"Did you ship much water?" asked Matt.
"Not much," was the answer.
"Fall off the boat?"
"Yes."
The youth did not seem inclined to go into particulars. When he answered Matt's question, he leaned over the gunwale to peer around Matt and get a look at the ferryboat.
"She's going right on," he said, as though to himself; "she won't stop to take me aboard."
"It won't be necessary for the ferryboat to stop," spoke up Matt. "I've got you aboard, and that's enough."