"All right," shouted young Jack. "We're there."

Harry Girdwood pulled vigorously towards the venturesome youth.

A few strokes brought them within twenty feet of the imperilled youth,
and he would have been got away in safety but for his own folly and
imprudence.

"Sit still," shouted young Jack. "Sit still."

"He'll be overboard," ejaculated Harry, glancing over his shoulder.

The words of the latter proved but too prophetic

A cry from young Jack--a piercing shriek from the other boat.

When Harry Girdwood glanced over his shoulder again, he saw the other
boat, keel upwards, floating away.

The unfortunate youth, its late occupant, was nowhere to be seen.

"He's gone!"

"He has," cried young Jack, starting up, "and by all that's unlucky, he
can't swim. Pull on, pull hard. Pull for mercy's sake."

And young Jack stood up in the boat, tearing off his jacket and
waistcoat.

"What are you after?"