"DANNY GRIN" IS SILENT
Dick Prescott sank into the water not more than two or three feet.
Then his head showed above the surface of the river. He struck
out vigorously, looking about him.
"The canoe is done for!" he gasped.
Too-oot! too-oot! too-oot! The steam launch was now speeding
to the scene, its whistle screeching at a rate calculated to inform
everyone in Gridley of another river disaster.
Up came Greg, then Dave. Tom Reade's head appeared down stream.
Harry Hazelton bobbed up not six feet from Dick. Hazelton blew
out a mouthful of water, then called:
"Everyone up, Dick?"
"All but Dan."
"What-----"
"I guess he's all right. Danny Grin is a good swimmer, you know."
Half a dozen river craft were now heading their way, but the launch
was the only power boat in sight.
Five members of Dick & Co. now got close together.
"We've got to go down after Danny Grin," Reade declared. "You
fellows watch, and I'll get as close to bottom as I can."
Tom sank. To the anxious boys he seemed to be gone for an age.
He came up alone.
"Did you see Dan?" Dick faltered. "Not a glimpse of him," returned
Tom despairingly.
"See the canoe?"
"No."
"Then you couldn't have gone down in the right place," Dick argued.
"I'll try it, fellows!" exclaimed Darrin. Down went Dave. He
soon came up, treading water. As soon as he had blown out a mouthful
of water he exclaimed:
"I found Dan, but I couldn't stay under long enough. He went
down with the canoe. He's lying in it now."
"Look out, there! We'll pick you up," called a voice from the
launch, which now darted toward the boys. A bell for half speed,
then another for "stop" sounded, and the hull of the launch divided
the frightened swimmers.
"Let me get aboard!" cried Dick, taking a few lusty over-hand
strokes.
Willing hands hauled him into the launch at the bow, while girls'
cries and anxious questions filled the air.
"What's the matter?"
"Who-----"
But Dick waited to answer no one. Standing in the bow of the
launch, he pointed his hands, then dived into the river.
While he was below the surface of the water the other canoeists
swam alongside, helping themselves aboard.
"Oh, Dave!" cried Laura Bentley. "What's wrong?"
"Dan Dalzell hasn't come up," Darrin choked. "Here, clear the
way. I'm going down after Dick."
He was gone like a flash. Seconds ticked by while a score of
pale faces watched over the side of the launch.
Then, at last, up shot Dave. He was followed almost instantly
by Dick, his arms wrapped around the motionless form of Dan Dalzell.
"Get close and we'll haul you in!" called Tom Reade, a boat-hook
in his hand.
"Is Dan drowned!" demanded a dozen voices.
"Don't ask questions now!" cried Tom Reade impatiently, without
looking about him. "Keep quiet! It's a time for work."
Abashed, the questioners became silent. Tom caught the boat-hook
through the collar of Dan's flannel shirt. With the aid of the
launch's helmsman Reade drew Dan in and got him aboard. Young
Dalzell's eyes were closed, nor did he speak.
Then Dick and Dave were pulled aboard the launch.
"Dan didn't seem to be able to free himself," Darrin explained
breathlessly. "His foot was wedged under a cleat in the canoe."
"Carry Dan aft," ordered Dick, while he was still clambering over
the rail. "Lay him face down."
Then, drenched as he was, Dick hastened aft, where he directed
others how to pat Dan on the back and to work his arms.
"We've got to get that water off his lungs," Dick explained.
"Don't stop working for a moment. I wish we had a barrel to roll
him on!"
"We will have soon," replied the launch's helmsman, rushing back
to his post and ringing the bell. Thus recalled to his post,
the engineer turned on the speed.
The craft made swiftly for Hiram Driggs' float. A few moments
later it ran alongside.
Warned by the whistle, Driggs and two of his workmen came running
out to the float.
"Get a barrel as quickly as you can!" shouted young Prescott.
By the time Dalzell had been hustled ashore the barrel was in
readiness. Dan received an energetic rolling. Three or four
little gushes of water issued from his mouth.
"Keep up the good work," ordered Dick feverishly. "We'll bring
him around soon."
When they saw that no more water was coming from Dalzell's mouth
the workers placed him in a sitting position, then began to pump-handle
his arms vigorously.
A tremor ran through the body of Danny Grin.
"Hurrah!" cried Dick. "He's going to open his eyes!"
This Dan did a few moments later. "Keep on working his arms,"
commanded Prescott.
"Quit!" begged Dalzell in a faint whisper. "You're hurting me."
"Good enough!" chuckled Dick. "Keep on at his arms until he can
talk a whole lot more."
"But isn't it cruel?" asked a girl.
"No," rejoined Tom Reade, turning to her. "Did you ever bring
a drowning man to?"
"Never, of course."
"Then let our Dick have his way. He generally knows what he's
about. No rudeness intended you understand," Reade added, smiling.
"This lad's all right, now," declared Hiram Driggs. "Help him
to his feet and walk him about a bit until he gets the whole trick
of breathing again. Dalzell, didn't you know any better than
to try to swallow the whole river and ruin my business?"
A faint grin parted Dan's lips.
"Oh, I'm so thankful," sighed Laura Bentley. "Dick, I was afraid
there would be but five of you left when I saw Dan being hoisted
aboard!"
Soon Dalzell was able to laugh nervously. Then a scowl darkened
his face.
"I'm the prize idiot of Gridley!" he muttered faintly.
"What's the matter now?" Dave Darrin demanded.
"The canoe is lost, and it's all my fault," moaned Dalzell. "Oh,
dear! Oh, dear!"
"Bother the canoe!" cried Dick impatiently. "We're lucky enough
that no lives have been lost."
"But I---I turned and upset the craft," wailed Dan.
"There were others of us," said Greg sheepishly. "If we had had
the sense of babies none of us would have turned, and there wouldn't
have been any accident."
"This is no time to talk about canoe etiquette," Prescott declared.
"Let us be thankful that we're all here. We'll wait until Dan
is himself again before we do any talking."
"I'm all right," protested Dan Dalzell.
"Yes; I believe you are," Driggs nodded.
"'T' any rate, you won't die now of that dose of river water."
"Party ready to come back aboard the launch?" called the helmsman.
"Oh, don't hurry us, just now!" appealed Laura Bentley, going
over to him quietly. "We're all so interested and concerned in
what is going on over here."
So the helmsman waited, grumbling quietly to himself.
Some twenty of the high school girls had chartered the launch
for a morning ride up the river. Dainty enough the girls looked
in their cool summer finery. They formed a bright picture as
they stood grouped about Dick & Co. and the other male members
of the party.
"You fellows can say all you want to," mumbled Dan, "but the canoe
is gone for good and all! We won't have any more fun in it this
summer."
"Was that what ailed you, Dan?" teased Darrin. "You felt so badly
over the loss of the canoe that you tried to stay on the bottom
of the river with it?"
"My foot was caught, and I couldn't get it loose," Dan explained.
"I was trying to free myself, like mad, you may be sure, when
all at once I didn't know anything more. You fellows must have
had a job prying my foot loose."
"It was something of a job," Dick smiled, "especially as our time
was so limited down there at the bottom with you. The river
must be twenty feet deep at that point."
"All of that," affirmed Hiram Driggs.
By this time the high school girls had divided into little groups,
each group with a member of Dick & Co. all to itself. The girls
were engaging in that rather senseless though altogether charming
hero worship so dear to the heart of the average schoolboy.
"What caused the accident?" inquired one girl.
"Gallantry," smiled Greg. "We were all so anxious to see you
girls that we all turned at the same time. We made the canoe
heel, and then it filled and went down. But you can't blame us,
can you?"
"But you've lost your fine big canoe," cried Laura Bentley, looking
as though her pretty eyes were about to fill with tears.
"Yes," Dick admitted, "and, of course, it's too bad. But a lot
of other worse things might have happened, and I guess we'll get
over our loss some way."
"But that canoe meant so much for your summer fun," Laura went
on. "Oh, it's too bad!"
"Maybe the canoe isn't lost," suggested Hiram Driggs.
"What do you mean, Mr. Driggs?" cried Laura, turning to him quickly.
"Is there any way of bringing the canoe up again?" asked Belle
Meade eagerly.
"There may be," Driggs replied quietly. "I'm going to have a
try at it anyway."
"All aboard that are going back to the dock," called the helmsman
of the launch, who was also her owner.
Laura turned upon him with flashing eyes.
"I don't believe there is anyone going," she said. "We wouldn't
leave here anyway, while there's a chance that the high school
boys can get their canoe back to the surface of the water. You
needn't wait, Mr. Morton. When we're ready we can walk the rest
of the way."