Sinking again below the water, he swam to the left side of the canoe, and at the moment he believed Pedro to be in the most unfavorable position and off his guard, he clutched the side of the canoe and gave it a violent tug. It is not much of a trick to upset a canoe—Whitey always claimed that he had to part his hair in the middle to keep one balanced—and the yank that Injun gave the canoe would have upset a good sized yawl.
Pedro, taken entirely unawares, let go of the lantern and revolver, and both went to the bottom. He was a most indifferent swimmer, and instead of swimming under water and trying to avoid the two boys, he strove to come to the top as quickly as he could and get rid of a large portion of the lake that he had involuntarily swallowed. But in this he was not altogether successful. The moment he had gone over-board, Injun had gone under after him, and Whitey's leap had landed the boy directly on top of him just as he got his head partially out of the water and before he had time to take a breath, and under he went, spluttering and gasping and in a panic. Against two such swimmers as Injun and Whitey, the man did not have a Chinaman's chance. Injun had him by the legs, and Whitey had his arms about his neck, with a grip on his wind-pipe; and the more he struggled and struck and kicked at the boys, the more exhausted he became and the weaker was his resistance. It is probable that he would have been glad to surrender, but was in no position to say so. And it is doubtful if the boys would have listened to any proposition in regard to an "armistice." They had him, and they knew it! If anybody was going to furnish a "nize, leetle dinner for ze feeshes," it would be Pedro!
Soon, his struggles grew weaker and weaker, and, finally, relaxed altogether; and it was a pretty thoroughly drowned Pedro that they held up in the water at last.
"See if you can find the canoe and the raft," said Whitey, when he had got his breath. "I'll hold him up while you get them."
"Whaffor?" asked Injun. "You swim, me swim, him swim! Him feed feeshes!"
"Nothing doing!" said Whitey. "This is too good a chance—we'll bring him back to the ranch!"
Whitey was "the boss," as Injun had declared long ago; and Injun swam about in widening circles until he came upon the raft. The canoe had either sunk or had drifted away.
Injun pushed the raft back to where Whitey held the unconscious man up and between them, they managed to slide him onto it, although it was considerable of a job, handicapped as they were by the darkness. But, at last, it was accomplished, and although Pedro was plainly "all in," Whitey took the precaution of tieing his hands with a belt which the man wore.
The weight of the fellow made the frail raft more unstable and "unseaworthy" than ever, and it required a good deal of management to keep him on it.
"Look out!" said Whitey, as the raft tilted at a dangerous angle, "he's sliding off!" And by a desperate effort, Whitey righted the logs and kept Pedro on it.