mes over the swimmer at
such a time. Dick was not given to panic, still less fear, but, for all
that, the minute which ensued was one of the most terrible in his life.

At certain times of the tide, the current between the Sprit Rock and the
long Fiddle-Sandbank rushed like a mill-race. The boys knew this; they
had been reminded of it at starting. But the morning had passed so
quickly that, until Dick had taken his header, and they saw him swept
astern, it had never occurred to one of them that it could possibly be
three o'clock. Freckleton was the first to see the danger, and almost
as soon as Dick appeared above water, he flung off his coat and boots,
and saying to Cresswell, "Come quick with the boat," plunged into the
water.

He was soon at Dick's side; not to support him, for the boy was able to
do that for himself, but to encourage him to keep cool, and not waste
his strength in endeavouring to stem the tide. And Dick had sense
enough to take the advice, and tread water quietly till the boat should
come.

It seemed a long time coming. The anchor was fast in the bottom, and it
wanted all Cresswell's strength to get it up. Indeed he would have been
tempted to simplify matters by cutting the cord, had he had a knife at
hand.

By the time it was free, the boys were almost a quarter of a mile away,
and getting weary. But once free, their suspense was not prolonged.
Cresswell bore quickly down upon them, and picked them up; and rarely
did three friends breathe more freely than when they all stood once more
on the floor of their boat.

There was no speech-making or wringing of hands, no bragging, no
compliments. They knew one another too well for that, and dressed in
silence, much as if the adventure had been an ordinary incident of an
ordinary bathe.

"It strikes me," said Cresswell, who still had the oars out, "it will
take us all our time to get back. Are you ready to take an oar, old
man?"

Short as the time had been--indeed the whole incident had not occupied
much more than five minutes--the boat was about a mile below her old
moorings, and still in the rush of the current.

It was little the two rowers could do to keep her head up, much less to
make any way; and finally it became clear that if they were to get back
to Templeton at all that day, they must either anchor where they were,
for six hours, with the risk of their rope not holding in the Race, or
else let the current take them out to th