THE TRICKY CANOE
Fred reached the edge of the water almost before his companion realized
what was going on. Throwing off his coat and discarding his shoes he
plunged headlong into the river.
A canoe had unset in the stream, and a small boy was struggling to
maintain his desperate clutch on the sloping side of the craft floating
with the current.
Fortunately the swift stream was bringing it toward Fred as he plunged
into the water. Had it been otherwise he would hardly have been able to
reach it before the boy sank for the last time.
Bristles Carpenter had by now recovered his wits, and about the time
Fred gave that mighty splash, when going headlong into the river, he
too was hurrying down the bank, trying in his clumsy fashion also to
discard his coat and shoes.
The Fenton boy had, meanwhile, struck out straight for the canoe, with
the little lad trying vainly to get hold of the bobbing gunwales,
disappearing under the surface several times, to come up again
spluttering, and choking.
Fred was a good swimmer, and never in all his past life had he known
such an occasion for making speed as then. He saw that the small boy
could not remain long above the water; and if he did go down, it might
be next to impossible to find him in time to get him ashore while life
remained.
Just as Bristles, panting for breath, and eager to lend a helping hand,
arrived at the brink of the water, he saw his chum reach out, and grasp
the sinking child by the shoulder.
"Whoo!"
That was Bristles, trying to give a cheer, but making a sad mess of it
because of shortness of breath.
He saw that Fred, by a great effort, had raised the little fellow, and
actually pushed him into the canoe, which had not overturned when it
threw its occupant into the treacherous river, though the craft was
much waterladen.
And now the rescuer was starting to swim back toward the shore, urging
the little craft along with him.
Bristles Carpenter had actually started into the river, and was already
almost up to his waist when he chanced to remember that he was
accounted one of the poorest swimmers among the Riverport boys.
"Don't come out, Bristles; stay there and try to give me a hand!"
From the way Fred called this, it was evident that his recent exertions
must have quite exhausted him; and that he felt the need of some
assistance, in order to get ashore with the canoe. The current was
particularly strong at this place, it being accounted one of the danger
spots of the Mohunk; and it seemed averse to letting its intended
victim get away from its grip.
Once Bristles had caught hold of Fred's arm he braced himself, and soon
the other was able to get his feet on the bottom.
Together they drew the canoe to the shore.
"Why, hello! here's a queer thing!" exclaimed Bristles, as, having
clambered out of the river he bent down to look at the half-drowned lad
in the canoe; "did you know it was little Billy Lemington you yanked
out of the water?"
"Yes, I knew it all along," replied Fred, as he squeezed some of the
water from his trousers, and then leaned over to see how the boy was
coming on.
Considering what a narrow escape little Billy had just had, he seemed
to be pretty well off. He had swallowed some water, it was true, and
his face was ashen white; but he could get up on his knees, and was
soon feeling better.
"It just kicked me out," he said, when Bristles asked him how the
accident had happened.
"Say, that's a way all canoes have, I understand," Bristles chuckled.
"They just watch till you're not lookin', and then chuck you overboard.
Some of 'em are worse than a bucking bronco at throwing a feller. But
looky here, Billy, how does it come you're in this cranky boat? I'd 'a
thought your dad would have told you to leave Buck's canoe alone."
"He did," replied the little fellow, with a half sob; "but I thought I
knowed how to manage it. But I'm never goin' to try again, no siree.
But won't I get it when they hear all about me bein' in the water! Wish
you wouldn't tell on me. Pop'll just give me hot cakes for not mindin'
him. _Please_ don't tell. I'll promise never to get in this old boat
again, sure I will!"
Fred and Bristles exchanged glances.
"What do you say, Fred?" asked the latter; "ought we keep still about
it?"
Under ordinary circumstances Fred would have said that the parents of
the boy ought to know what chances he had been taking; but the
conditions were rather peculiar just then. If he told, it would seem as
if he might be trying to "draw the teeth" of his enemy, Buck Lemington,
by boasting how he had saved the latter's little brother, of whom the
bully was especially fond. And Fred's pride rose at the idea of his
being considered that sort of a fellow.
"Oh! I'm willing to keep mum about it, Bristles, if you are," he said,
slowly, after having duly considered the matter. "He promises never to
get in this cranky canoe again. For the life of me I can't see how he
ever paddled it all the way up here."
"I didn't," spoke up Billy, quickly. "Buck lent it to Bob Armstrong,
and last night I heard him say he thought it funny Bob didn't drop down
with his boat. So I just thought to-day I'd walk up to Bob's and if he
was around, tell him I'd come for our canoe."
"And Bob was silly enough to let you have it, eh?" asked Bristles,
indignantly.
Billy was rapidly recovering his nerve. He even made a wry face as he
went on to answer the question put to him.
"Why no. You see Bob, he wasn't around; so, because I didn't want to
have my long walk all for nothin', I just hunted up the paddle in his
woodshed, and started for our house. I'd a made it, too, if I hadn't
leaned too far over when a rock bumped into us, and the old thing just
pitched me out."
"Well," said Fred, laughingly, "suppose you jump around a little, and
dry off before you go home, Billy. And neither of us will let on what
happened. I'll get the canoe down to your house in some fashion, though
I hope Buck will be away this morning."
"He's gone off with some of the fellers to Grafton, to look at somethin'
they want to buy," the small chap continued; "and he won't be back till
noon. That's just why I thought I'd help get his boat down
the river. You see Bob's with him, I guess."
So after they had seen Billy scamper away, keeping in the warm sun so
as to get his clothes dried, and avoiding the road so that he might not
meet inquisitive people who would wonder how he came to be so wet, Fred
and Bristles together entered the canoe, the latter having recovered
his shoes and coat.
They recovered the paddle and Fred pushed off, and went quietly along
down the river until finally he was able to bring the craft to the
shore at the place where Buck generally kept it housed in a small
shanty he had built.
They tied it up, and sauntered away. By this time their clothes had
dried fairly well.
They were just leaving the vicinity of the boat house where Buck kept
the canoe, when Bristles caught sight of a boy staring hard at them
from a little distance along the river bank.
"After all, Fred, I reckon that we'll hear something drop about this
little matter," he declared; "because, you see, there's Sam Jinks
watching us with his eyes just popping half out of his head. He wonders
what we've been doing with Buck's canoe, because he knows right well we
never borrowed it. And make up your mind Sam'll tell him all about it
the first chance he gets, because he wants to get in with that bunch."
"All right," replied Fred, with a shrug of his shoulders; "I don't see
where we've got any reason to worry about it. Just say we found the
boat drifting on the current of the river, which is the truth,
Bristles. Buck can carry on any way he likes; we won't give him any
satisfaction. And now, let's get back to what we were talking about
when all this rumpus came along; the chances for a boat club in
Riverport."