A BRAVE EXPLOIT
The danger with Dick Halliard was, that his anger was likely to
overmaster his judgment, and lead him to attempt something that would
cause his own disastrous overthrow.
The knowledge that the young man had just asked the privilege of
destroying his bicycle was exasperating to a degree, but he might have
reflected that, since the method chosen was by sinking it in the
mill-pond, he had only to wait and watch where the submersion took
place, when it could be readily recovered without injury.
“I won’t stand it,” muttered the wrathful lad, stealing after them;
“if they undertake that business somebody is going to get hurt.”
It was but a short distance to the pond. Dick was walking dangerously
near the couple, who were liable at any moment to turn and discover
him. He saw the gleam of the water in the faint moonlight, but just
before the pond was reached the path divided. While one encircled the
extensive sheet of water, the other turned to the left, and led
farther into the woods and among the mountainous regions beyond.
It was as this point the pair stopped for a moment and exchanged a few
words. The youth who had stolen the bicycle was the first to speak.
“Jim, you’re so anxious to drown the wheel, and I’m willing, but
there’s no need of waiting to see you do it.”
“What’s your hurry, Tom?”
“I’m anxious to see how Bob made out. I’ll turn off the path right
here and go to camp; you’ll be along in a few minutes, and if
everything is right, Bob ought to be there very soon, if he hasn’t
arrived before this.”
The matter was of no moment, and, as his companion took the path
leading deeper into the woods, Jim kept on in the direction of the
mill-pond, where the bicycle was leaning against a tree near the edge
of the water.
This little circumstance, however, encouraged the angry Dick, for he
now had but one person to contend with, though the second was near at
hand.
Jim, as he had been called, spent several minutes in searching for the
bicycle, though he was close to it all the time. This, too, was
fortunate, since Tom was walking rapidly away and was likely soon to
be beyond call.
“Ah, here it is!” muttered Jim, a moment later, “I thought Tom was
fooling me, but I’ll soon fix it now.”
He took hold of the wheel, and as it assumed the perpendicular, began
shoving it toward the water. The path was so narrow that some
difficulty was caused, and Dick heard him muttering angrily to himself
again.
“_I guess you had better drop that!_”
Dick uttered the words in the most guttural bass he could assume, and
they were startling enough in the gloomy stillness of the place.
Jim was on the very edge of the pond at the moment, balancing the
bicycle, and about to shove it out into the deep water at his feet,
where it would instantly drop from sight. The hiss of a serpent
beneath his feet could not have given him a greater shock.
He turned so abruptly that the machine fell over on its side with the
rim touching the pond, which just there was at its deepest. Seeing a
figure advancing from the darkness, he recoiled a step and faced the
intruder.
In his fright he stepped a few inches too far and fell backward with a
loud splash.
“It would serve you right if you were half drowned,” said Dick, moving
forward to pick up his wheel.
He had it erect in a twinkling, and started to push it along the path,
when the terrified Jim shouted:
“Help! help! I can’t swim! I’m drowning!”
This put a new and serious face on the business. Dick let his bicycle
tumble sideways again and ran to the edge of the pond to give help to
the unfortunate youth.
As has been stated the water at this part of the mill-pond was deeper
than anywhere else. The instant Jim went off the land, he was where a
twenty-foot pole would not have reached bottom. Furthermore, he told
the truth when he called that he could not swim. He was unable to
sustain himself for a single stroke.
Quick as was Dick Halliard in dashing over the brief intervening
space, he saw the head of the fellow disappear under the surface, the
disturbed waters bubbling over him.
But he knew he would come up again, and hurriedly looked around for a
pole or stick to extend to him. None was within reach and the seconds
were of too momentous value to allow him a further hunt.
Knowing the endangered youth was in a panic, Dick now strove to reach
him without leaving the land. Remembering where he had gone down, he
essayed to step as far out from the edge as he could, in the hope that
he might give him his hand.
But, familiar as he was with the big mill-pond and its surroundings,
he forgot that the shore at that place went downward as sheer as the
side of a stone wall.
As a consequence, the instant he bore the least weight on the extended
foot, down he went with a force that carried him below the surface.
But Dick was one of the most skillful of swimmers, and though the
water was chilly, he came up like a duck.
He was so prompt in doing this that he and Jim rose simultaneously,
and within arm’s length of each other.
“Keep still! don’t move, and I’ll take you ashore!”
He might as well have appealed to the whirlwind. The instant he
grasped the hair of the big fellow the latter turned and flung both
arms about his neck, and despite all his rescuer could do the two
disappeared again.
The young rescuer knew that unless the desperate lock was broken both
must drown, and the coolness with which he decided on the right and
only thing to do and did it, was one of the most striking exhibitions
our hero ever gave, or, for that matter, that any one could have
given.
While holding his breath below, the death-lock of the drowning youth
was slightly relaxed, but not sufficiently for his hold to be
released. Our body is slightly less in specific gravity than water,
and, aided by the exertions of Dick, the two quickly rose to the
surface again.
The crisis came the instant they readied fresh air. It was then the
drowning Jim would strive fiercely to gather his rescuer closer to
him, and nothing less than the power of Hercules could shake him off.
Dick knew it and acted accordingly.
At the moment he gasped for breath he let drive with his right fist,
landing directly between Jim’s eyes. It was the strongest blow Dick
could deliver, and like a flash he repeated it.
It did the business. Poor Jim was in a dazed condition already. The
two blows of Dick stunned him and he became a dead weight on his
rescuer.
Fortunately for the latter they were close to shore, else his attempt
to save the other might have resulted most seriously to himself. The
larger boy was likely to recover from the stunning blow in a few
seconds, and the instant he did so would become frantic again, while
Dick’s strength must speedily succumb.
The cry of the drowning youth rang through the wood and reached the
ears of Tom Wagstaff, who dashed back to learn what it meant. At the
moment he arrived Dick had reached one hand up on the planking which
ran along the edge of the pond, and, with his other arm under the
shoulders of Jim, kept his head in the air, but was unable to help him
further until he should recover his senses.
Dick knew who the second party was that suddenly appeared on the
margin.
“He’s all right,” he said, alluding to Jim; “reach down and give him
your hand; he’s coming to.”
The hand grasped by Tom was limp at first, but it suddenly gripped the
other with desperate force, and putting forth all his power, Tom gave
a pull which dragged out the half-drowned Jim, and stretched him on
his face, where he showed signs of speedily recovering his bewildered
senses.
“How did this happen?” asked the puzzled Tom, looking at Dick as he
emerged from the water.
“He was about to push my bicycle that you stole into the pond, when he
fell in himself; he called out that he couldn’t swim, so I jumped in
after him; and now, if you have no objection, I’ll take my wheel
home.”
As he spoke he advanced to where the bicycle was lying, stood it up,
and moved down the path.
And as for Jim and Tom they spake never a word.