some on you! Thinking of nothing but saving your own blessed
lives! Are you going to let the poor lad drown?"

"Here, coxswain, why don't you tell us what to do?" snarled one of the
men.

"How can I," yelled Joe, "when I don't know what to do mysen? Oh, don't
I wish that I had got the skipper here! I'd let him have it warm!"

"Joe! Joe!" came out of the darkness. "I can't hold on! I can't hold
on!"

"Yah, you young idgit!" roared the sailor. "You must!"

"I can't, Joe--I can't!" cried Rodd faintly, and there was a gurgling
sputtering sound as if the water had washed over him.

"Oh-h!" groaned Joe. "Don't I tell you you must! Hold on by your arms
and legs--your eyelids. Stick your teeth into the branch. We are
a-coming, my lad.--Oh my! what a lie!" he muttered. Then aloud, and in
a despairing tone, "Can any one of you get up again' the stream to where
he is?"

"No!" came in a deep murmur. "If we go down we shall be washed away."

"Same here," groaned Joe. "I'm a-holding on with the water right up to
the middle, and just about ready to be washed off. I can't stir. Oh,
do one of you try and save the poor dear lad! I wish I was dead, I do!"

"Joe!" came faintly.

"Ay, ay, my lad!"

"Tell Uncle Paul--"

The words ended in a half-suffocated wailing cry, and almost the next
moment there was a tremendous splashing of water, and the snapping of a
good-sized branch, followed by sounds as of a struggle going on upon the
surface of the rushing stream as it lapped and hissed amongst the
tangled boughs and twigs.

"Hold hard!" yelled Joe. "Anywhere.--Got him, boys--_urrrrr_!--"

It was as if some savage beast had suddenly seized its prey. Then there
was a loud panting and more crackling as of branches giving way, and
directly after, in answer to a volley of inquiries, Joe Cross panted
out--

"Yes, I've got him, my lads, and he's got his teeth into me; but I don't
know how long we can hold on."

"You must hold on, Joe!" shouted a voice.

"Stick to him, messmate! I'm a-trying to get to you."

There was more crackling in the darkness, and a peculiar subdued sound
as of men panting after running hard; but it was only the hard breathing
of excitement.

"Have you got him still, Joe?" came in gasps.

"Yes, my lad, but he's awful still and I don't know that he aren't
drowned.--No, he aren't, for he's got his teeth into my shoulder, and
he's gripping hard. But the water keeps washing right up in