cheme, for Ned reached far over the gunwale and firmly seized
the line, then gently and steadily pulled the heavy weight to the
surface. There were no signs of life in Joe's limp body; his cramped
hand held the line twisted about his fingers, his eyes were closed, and
his mouth half open.

Ned grasped the wrist which appeared first, and drew Joe along towards
the bow of the boat, so that there would be no chance of capsizing. He
lay out flat over the bow and held Joe under the arms, keeping his head
well out of water, and waited. There was nothing to be done now but
_wait_; no one was in sight, and shouting would have done no good, so he
held on in his cramped position and watched the boat get a little
headway in drifting towards shore, driven by the light wind. The sun had
come out again, and blue patches of sky were appearing through the
fast-flying clouds.

As the boat reached the shallow water, Ned leaped out up to his waist,
still clinging to Joe's wrist; a moment more and he had him safe on
shore, and, strange to say, there, too, was the cause of the trouble,
the huge bass, still fast to the hook, which was far out of sight down
his throat. The fight had been too much for him, and as Ned half carried
Joe up the beach to a mossy bank, he also hauled the monster bass, that
showed not a quiver of the gills or a movement of fin or tail. Ned
placed Joe softly down, with his feet up on the bank and his head, face
downward, over a soft rotten log, and then began the work which meant
life or death. He had kept cool up to this time in a wonderful way, but
now he began to get excited. He rolled Joe over and over, and kneaded
him with his hands. Occasionally he stopped to listen to Joe's heart and
feel for the chance of a single breath. It was a strange sight but a
most impressive one--a young boy working for the life of his friend with
all the fervor and love that a close friendship could call forth.
Finally Ned's efforts began to have effect; there was a slight movement,
a slow turning of the limp body, and Ned felt that Joe was safe, and he
uttered a sigh that meant everything.

Gradually Joe's eyes opened, and finally, after more rubbing, he slowly
sat up, and for the first time let go the line which he had held
stronger than a vise up to this time.

"Ned," he said, feebly, "where am I? Where have I been? I can't remember
anything. I am awful cold," he continued, and a shiver ran over him. "I
must have swallowed half