“Why not make the best of it, Jerry?” said Louis. “The quicker the work is done, the more rapid will be our advance, and I’m sure we all want to see the campaign come to a quick as well as a successful ending.” But Jerry did not see it that way. He had to go out, but the amount of work he did was small and he was often reprimanded for his laziness. The labor had been going on for several hours, and Louis was beginning to wonder if it was not about time for dinner, when a shriek from the river sounded out. At first it was thought somebody had been shot, but this was not so. Jerry Rowe had tumbled overboard, and the swollen and swiftly flowing current was carrying him rapidly out of sight and hearing of his companions. “Help! help!” he shrieked. “I can’t swim! Help!” “It’s Jerry!” burst from Harry Bingham’s lips. “What shall we do?” “Isn’t there a rope handy?” asked Louis, and then, as he saw Jerry sink, he added, “Get one somewhere and follow me.” With the agility of a cat he left the half-constructed bridge and darted along the overflowed bank of the river. Once he went down, but quickly picked himself up again and continued on his run, which was with the current. “Where are you going?” asked somebody, but he did not answer. A hundred feet farther on a gnarled oak stood, its twisted branches spreading in every direction. One branch swept the river, its outer end at least twenty-five feet from shore. Up into this tree sprang Louis, to crawl along the branch mentioned until the middle of the Chickahominy was gained. Then he swung himself downward, under the leaves. The soldiers standing near saw his plan and cheered him. But Louis still paid no attention to them. His face was scanning the swollen stream at a point where he had seen Jerry’s white face bobbing up and down. That face was coming nearer. It was yet twenty feet from the tree when it disappeared. Splash! with the vanishing of the face Louis had let go his hold on the oak and now he was swimming lustily forward. “Keep up, Jerry, I’ll save you!” were his words, but if Jerry heard when he reappeared he was too scared to reply. “Help! Save me!” Those were the only words the frightened boy uttered, until he was ready to sink again. Then Louis clutched him by the arm. “Jerry!” Before he could say another word Jerry felt his grasp, and swinging around clutched him with the strength found only in those who are drowning. The clutch was around Louis’s neck, and instantly the young Union soldier was in danger of being choked. “Don’t--hold--on--so--tight,” he managed to gasp, but Jerry would not listen and tried to wind his long, slim legs around Louis’s body in his endeavor to hold himself above the current. At that dangerous moment Harry arrived with a long rope, picked up close to the spot where he had been standing when the alarm rang out. He knotted one end and threw it out to the struggling pair.