for his foolishness, when he heard a cry from the water:

"Ned, oh, Ned! he's a whale! Hurry with the boat; I'm tuckered! Hurry!"

The last call to hurry was rather faint, and sounded almost as bad to
Ned as if it had been "help" that Joe had cried; it made his heart leap
in his throat.

"Let go the line," Ned cried back, "and keep your head, and I'll be
there in a moment."

Again the words were lost in the wind, and Joe continued his struggle.
In his excitement he felt that letting go that line would be like
cutting it, and he hung on, now thrashing and splashing as the fish
started to twine the line around his legs, and the sharp points of his
fins pricked him. It was a case of the fish playing Joe, a pretty even
struggle, but Joe was game and bound to have him. He did not appreciate
that his strokes and kicks to keep his head up over the choppy surface
of the lake were leaving him weaker and weaker.

As Joe turned his head a moment towards shore he saw Ned pulling towards
him with all his strength; a moment later a wave struck him full in the
face and caught him with his mouth open; he gulped and choked, and again
started thrashing and struggling to gain his breath, but all he could do
was to give a feeble cry of "help," then he sank out of sight, holding
fast to the line.

Ned heard the faint cry, and turned as he rowed against the storm, which
was now luckily falling as quickly as it had come up. The only thing he
saw was the small piece of board tip up on its side and disappear.
"Thank goodness he had hold of that line!" murmured Ned. "Now brace
yourself," he added, aloud, "and keep cool, keep cool, keep cool."

It seemed to Ned that he said those words a thousand times; he was right
on the spot, and was standing and waiting. The strain was something
awful. He knew a good deal about swimming and about its dangers, and
knew that a person had to come up twice, and that the third time down
was down for good. He thought that Joe had not called before, yet he
could not tell; but there was only one thing to do--wait, and, as he had
said, "keep cool."

Ages and ages seemed to pass as Ned, shivering and pale, strained his
eyes to see the block of wood appear again. Suddenly he caught a glimpse
of the bit of wood slowly rising close by the side of the boat, and
below it, as it came up zigzagging to the surface, he saw the white body
following. It was a lucky thing that a stout trolling-line had been used
in the s