"Right you are," pronounced the doctor, after a brief examination. "He's opening his eyes now. Luckily, he missed the rocks and only hit the water. And you fellows have done a good job in getting that out of him. All he needs is rest, but it will be just as well to get him home as soon as possible." "We'll do that," promised Bill, and with a friendly wave of his hand to the doctor stepped again into his own boat and departed. The prostrate lad opened his eyes and looked around with a frown on his face. He did not speak, nor did the Lenox boys urge him to, but waited for him to get his strength back. The other lad from the wrecked craft had watched their efforts with more or less interest, but had not volunteered to take part in them. There was evidently no love lost between him and his companion. There had been a gleam of recognition in Bill's eyes when the less injured lad had scrambled on board, and now that Bill had a moment of respite he introduced the newcomer to his companions. "This is Jerry Cox, fellows," Bill said informally. "My brother Frank knows him. Jerry, let me introduce Garry Grayson, Rooster Long, Ted Dillingham and Nick Danter. Perhaps you know some of them already." "Only by name," returned Jerry Cox, as he seated himself on a box near by with a cheerful grin on his face. "Garry Grayson sure led a wicked team for Hill Street last year and Rooster Long did some classy work as back. Gee, I wish I could play the kind of football you fellows put up!" Both Garry and Rooster warmed to the genuine enthusiasm of their new acquaintance. Here was a football fan like themselves. Garry wondered at the dislike that was evident in Bill's tone as he made the introductions, and made a mental note that he would ask him about it the first time he had an opportunity. "I should think you would be satisfied with your own special game," Bill said now in the same cold, unfriendly tone. "I hear from Frank that you play a wicked game of pool." "Wicked is right," agreed Jerry amiably. "I don't need much advice when I have a cue in my hand." They were interrupted by a fretful voice. "Why are you keeping me out here?" queried Jerry's companion. "Why don't you take me to shore?" "We'll do that in a jiffy," responded Bill, with a cheerful grin. "I guess this old bus can get us that far." The eyes of the rescued boy turned toward him, and the frown on his face deepened. Garry and his chums had a chance to study that face now, and what they saw did not appeal to them. It was a good-looking face in a rather weak way, but the forehead looked as though it had the habit of scowling and the mouth had a peevish, downward droop that seemed to indicate an habitually sullen state of mind. The uninvited guest proceeded to act in such a way as to leave little doubt in his auditors' minds that they had judged correctly.