canoe, gripping it with all fours and coughing the water from his mouth.

Hal made an attempt to climb up, his fingers slipped; then two terrible
little demons seemed to grasp the calves of his legs; their fingers
ripped the muscles out and tied them into knots, knots that extended to
his knees, his hips, his stomach; his fingers weakened with the agony of
it--Hal Bennington knew he was going down with cramps.

Away off to the right he thought he heard a voice; it was saying, "Keep
up, Hal, keep up, I'm coming!" but he could not answer. With a last
effort he literally screamed, "Hang on, Freddy, hang on!" Then he felt
numb, very numb, and all was dark.

Professor Warwick had gone out to furl the awnings against the rising
wind. His kindly little eyes were peering through their spectacles at
sea and sky when suddenly they rested on a frail canoe that was taking
an erratic course toward the island. Instantly he was around at the
other side of the cottage. "Boys, boys," he shouted frantically, "Quick,
get out the sailboat, Hal's canoe is in danger!"

"Sailboat!" gasped Cop Billings, springing to his feet; "she's no good;
bottom's out, a whole patch of her. She's being repaired." But while
he talked he was running wildly to the boathouse followed by all the
others. As they reached the little wharf they were just in time to
see the combers strike the canoe, to see Freddy start, then to see it
capsize. For a moment they were horror-stricken, speechless, then Cop
yelled, "He's got Freddy! See, he's got him!" It seemed an eternity
before they saw Hal grasp the child, then with more horror they saw the
upturned canoe floating away, away, away.