rowning boy before those in the
Flying Fish even realized his purpose.

With swift, powerful strokes he got alongside Sam just as the owner of
the hydroplane was going down for the third time.

As the brave boy seized the struggling, frightened youth he felt
himself gripped by the panic-stricken Sam in a frenzied hold of
desperate intensity. His arms were pinioned by the drowning wretch,
and they both vanished beneath the waves.

As they went under, however, Merritt managed to get one hand free, and
recalling what he had read of what to do under such conditions, struck
the other boy a terrific blow between the eyes. It stunned Sam
completely, and, to his great relief, Merritt felt the imprisoning grip
relax. He could then handle Sam easily, and as they shot to the
surface he saw the Flying Fish bearing down on them, with four white,
strained faces searching the tumbling waters.

In a few moments the unconscious lad and his rescuer were hauled on
board, and Rob, after congratulations, headed the Flying Fish for the
mouth of the inlet, which was still some distance off.

Tubby and Bill Bender laid Sam on his stomach, across a thwart, and
started to try to get some of the salt water, of which he had swallowed
great quantities, out of him. He soon gave signs of returning
consciousness, and opened his eyes just as Jack Curtiss was demanding
to know if the Boy Scouts weren't going to take the hydroplane in tow.

"Not much we're not," responded Rob. "I'm sorry to have to leave her;
but this sea is getting up nastier every minute, and there's no way of
getting a line to her without running more risk than I want to take.
We've had one near-drowning and we don't want another."

"If this was my boat, I'd pick Sam's boat up," sullenly replied the
bully.

"You ought to be mighty glad we came along when we did," indignantly
spoke up Tubby. "You'd have been in a bad fix if we hadn't. Instead
of being thankful for it, all you can do is to kick about leaving the
hydroplane."

An angry reply was on the other's lips, but Bill Bender checked it by
looking up and saying: "I guess the kid's right, Jack. Let it go at
that."

The bully glowered. He felt his pride much wounded at having been
compelled to seek the aid of the boys whom he despised and hated.

"I suppose you'll go and blab it all over town about how you saved us,"
he sneered, as the Flying Fish threaded her way through the tumbling
waters at the mouth of the