"I've got you, Brandon," he said grimly.
Farther and farther Dave stretched over. He paid no heed to the yawning depths. All he saw was Dick Travers' fear-stricken face just below.
A few inches more, and the "poet's" strong hands closed with a vise-like grip over his fellow Rambler's wrist.
"Keep a tight grip on the sapling, Dick," he commanded, in a tense voice, and the other obeyed.
It was a thrilling moment for all. But Dave's strength was equal to the emergency. With a mighty effort, he began to work his way back inch by inch.
Bob Somers, after fastening the rope securely, sprang forward. No words were spoken. Dave Brandon grunted and groaned, while the perspiration rolled off his round face.
Presently Bob Somers leaned over and grabbed Dick Travers' left arm. Up, up came the dangling form.
"Now, Havens, pull for all you are worth," panted Dave. "Pull like the dickens," and Jim bent all his strength to the task.
Another instant, and Dick was seized by the waistband and dragged over the edge to safety.
It would be hard to give an idea of the thankfulness that was in the hearts of all. For several moments, Dick Travers lay without speaking. The shock had been a severe one.