"You fellows are all right!" declared the lad who had been so near death. "Crawford is my name, Tom Crawford. I'm from Waterside."
"We're from Riverview," spoke Jack, and he named himself and his companions. "Are you all right now?"
"I guess so—yes, I'm all right," and Tom Crawford, who seemed to be a manly young chap, proved his words by walking about. "A little weak in the legs," he confessed with a smile.
"We can row you to your school," suggested Frank, "though this boat isn't very good."
"Oh, no, thanks, I wouldn't think of troubling you. I can walk, I guess."
"You won't have to. Here comes the shell after you," said Andy. "How did you come to upset?"
"It was my fault, I guess. I don't pull a very good stroke yet. You see we're only the freshman crew, but some of the fellows are better than I. I caught a crab, when we were trying to avoid an old boat, and we went over. Then I got a cramp. But it was bully of you to come out and get me," he added, taking Frank's hand in a firm clasp. "I'll never forget it. You saved my life."
"Pshaw! Any one would have done it," said Frank.
There were more thanks and congratulations from the other members of the freshman eight when they reached what passed as the landing stage for the Riverview boathouse. Frank and Andy, though, noticed that there was something of a coldness between their two chums and the other school lads.
"What's the reason for that?" asked Frank when the shell had been rowed away, after renewed thanks on the part of Tom Crawford. "Why, aren't you friendly with those fellows?"