shoulder.

"Whoo!"

That was Bristles, trying to give a cheer, but making a sad mess of it
because of shortness of breath.

He saw that Fred, by a great effort, had raised the little fellow, and
actually pushed him into the canoe, which had not overturned when it
threw its occupant into the treacherous river, though the craft was
much waterladen.

And now the rescuer was starting to swim back toward the shore, urging
the little craft along with him.

Bristles Carpenter had actually started into the river, and was already
almost up to his waist when he chanced to remember that he was
accounted one of the poorest swimmers among the Riverport boys.

"Don't come out, Bristles; stay there and try to give me a hand!"

From the way Fred called this, it was evident that his recent exertions
must have quite exhausted him; and that he felt the need of some
assistance, in order to get ashore with the canoe. The current was
particularly strong at this place, it being accounted one of the danger
spots of the Mohunk; and it seemed averse to letting its intended
victim get away from its grip.

Once Bristles had caught hold of Fred's arm he braced himself, and soon
the other was able to get his feet on the bottom.

Together they drew the canoe to the shore.

"Why, hello! here's a queer thing!" exclaimed Bristles, as, having
clambered out of the river he bent down to look at the half-drowned lad
in the canoe; "did you know it was little Billy Lemington you yanked
out of the water?"

"Yes, I knew it all along," replied Fred, as he squeezed some of the
water from his trousers, and then leaned over to see how the boy was
coming on.

Considering what a narrow escape little Billy had just had, he seemed
to be pretty well off. He had swallowed some water, it was true, and
his face was ashen white; but he could get up on his knees, and was
soon feeling better.

"It just kicked me out," he said, when Bristles asked him how the
accident had happened.

"Say, that's a way all canoes have, I understand," Bristles chuckled.
"They just watch till you're not lookin', and then chuck you overboard.
Some of 'em are worse than a bucking bronco at throwing a feller. But
looky here, Billy, how does it come you're in this cranky boat? I'd 'a
thought your dad would have told you to leave Buck's canoe alone."

"He did," replied the little fellow, with a half sob; "but I thought I
knowed how to manage it. But I'm never goin' to try again, no