Then it was that Bob did a fine thing, which has caused the rest of us
to look upon him as a real hero ever since. He ran along the bank,
down-stream a little way, and jumped in, rapidly made his way to a
point a few yards below where the boy had gone down, dived, and came
up with him. The rest of us waded out as far as we dared, to meet him,
and all together we drew the couple to shore. But, fellows, that boy
was dead--at least he seemed to be, and we were certain of it.

We lifted his limp body out of the water and laid it on the ground. We
were three miles from town. Scared? We were terrified! All of us were
trembling from head to foot with fright. There were no Boy Scouts in
those days, and boys had not learned the scientific way to restore a
drowned person to life. We were alone and helpless in the presence of
sudden death, and knew not what to do.

One boy suggested that we ought to "get the water out of him," and
that was followed by another suggestion, to put the body over the
lower limb of a near-by tree letting the head hang down, so the water
could run out of the mouth. This we proceeded to do, with a great deal
of difficulty, but finally we got it up there, hanging across the
limb, pretty much like a wet necktie.

After the body had hung in the tree about five minutes, while we stood
about, panting, pale, and terror-stricken, we again took it down and
laid it out on the ground. All of a sudden, to our amazement there was
a movement about the mouth and a little gasp, as for breath. The rough
handling of the body getting it in and out of the tree had had some
effect.