“If the sky were only clear, it would be twice as easy,” he murmured. “Still, I haven’t much further to go. Whew, this is quite an adventure for the first day.”
The rowboat was not far ahead now, and, as the moon again appeared in view, Bob saw in it a man waving his arms.
“I’ll be with you in a minute,” he yelled, and an answering shout floated over the water.
But the last stretch dragged out, and when, with aching arms and panting breath, Bob neared the boatman in distress, the steamer with the flaring search-light was not far away.
“You’re just in time,” called the man, over the intervening space. “My old boat sprung a leak and is half full of water.”
His voice was pleasant and youthful, and when the rays of the lantern fell across him, Bob saw the good-looking, clear-cut features of a man about twenty-one.
“By George, I owe you a debt of gratitude,” he cried, in a tone of great relief. “I’m not much of a swimmer.”
He laughed, nervously, then paused and looked at Bob in surprise.
“Why!” he exclaimed, “I—never—expected to——” and he stopped again.
“Expected what?” asked Bob.