I hope this won't get into the newspapers," grunted Darrin in a tone of
something like real alarm. "Say, the fellows of the brigade wouldn't do
a thing but make us mount chairs and read all the fulsome gush about
this rescue."

"And then, after we'd finished a straight reading," groaned Dan, "we'd
have to sing it next, to the tune of 'Columbia, the Pride of the Ocean.'"

"'Gem of the Ocean,' Dan," Darrin corrected.

Though in the middle of the river the sailboat had many a close shave
from capsizing in the strong puffs of wind, especially with the load that
the little craft carried, yet Dan Dalzell, at the tiller, brought the
boat at last in under the lee side of the float, and there a score of
pairs of willing hands reached out with offers of help.

Dr. Bentley was in the crowd, as were two other Gridley physicians. There
were also two trained nurses, and one of the druggists had brought along
a big emergency box of drugs and supplies. Between them the telephone and
the automobile can accomplish a lot in these modern times.

Laura and Belle, though they had summoned the aid, now kept tactfully in
the background.

The two apparently drowned girls were lifted from the boat in haste and
borne to a room that had been made ready on the second floor of the
clubhouse. Ab Canty was carried to another room, and Tom Foss, who nearly
shook to pieces when lifted from the water, was helped after his friend.

"You two young midshipmen will have to come inside and get some of our
attention," called Dr. Bentley in an authoritative voice.

"I think not, thank you, doctor," replied Dave Darrin. "The most that we
want is some place where we can strip and rub down, while waiting for dry
clothing."

"I know just the room, and I'll take you there," urged Len Spencer,
reporter for the "Morning Blade." Len was an old friend of Dick Prescott,
who, in his High School days before going to West Point, had worked as an
amateur space reporter for the "Blade."

Len led the way gladly. While Dan and Dave stripped and rubbed down, Len
got out of them the whole account of what they had been through.
Reporter Spencer had already talked with Belle and Laura. A man in an
auto had already started for the homes of the two midshipmen, to obtain
changes of clothing for them.

"Now, Len," begged Dave, "don't spread on a lot of taffy. Don't smother
us under the hero racket."

"But it was an heroic thing," Len argued. "And, besides, it was done with