stick--the long one--"

Instantly Betty saw what she meant and stooped to pick up a long broken
branch that was lying at her feet. At the same instant Mollie came to the
surface several feet away from the spot where she had fallen and threw her
strength desperately against the rushing might of the river.

Betty ran along the river bank, Amy and Grace at her heels, shouting
encouragement to Mollie as she ran.

"Hold tight!" she cried, adding with fresh dismay as she saw that the girl
was being swept further from the shore: "Over this way, honey. Swim to
your right--to your right--"

Blinded, chilled to the bone with the cold water, her hair in her eyes and
her skirts clinging tight about her legs, Mollie struggled wildly, unable
to hear the shouts of her chums above the ringing in her ears.

It was taking all her strength to hold her own against the rush of the
river--and now she was not even doing that! Slowly, very slowly, she was
being pushed backward; in a little while more she would be sucked
downward, and then--

She closed her eyes, and then, as though the obliteration of one sense
made more clear the other, she heard Betty calling to her above the roar
of the falls.

"Mollie! Mollie!" it came, faint but distinct, "take hold of the stick and
we'll pull you in. Mollie, do you hear me?"