They lifted the bound man and flung him over the rail, while with a thrilling shriek Sadie fell senseless into the arms of the man who held her. He laid her gently down, and made a spring at the taffrail, and his body struck the water almost as soon as that of Mr. Wescott, who was unable to help himself. “Come back here, you born fool,” screamed Dick Garrett. “What do you think the Cap will say when he hears how you act?” “You go to ——,” said the rough but good-hearted fellow, naming a locality not sought after by humanity generally. “I’m going to save this man.” “Then by ——” hissed Dick Garrett, “you stay with him; set in your poles, boys. Tom don’t want to come on board.” By this time the man had seized the helpless form of Wescott, and with his clasp-knife managed to cut the bonds upon his hands and feet, and Wescott at once began to swim, but feebly at first, and the fiendish order of the desperate leader rung in his ears, and they saw the boat moving slowly away, leaving them alone on the wide river. “We’re done, stranger,” said the man called Tom. “I done my best, but he’s run from us.” “You can swim to the bank,” said Mr. Wescott, noting with what ease the man sustained himself. “I reckon.” “Then do so and leave me to my fate,” replied Wescott. “You have already risked too much for me.” “When I quit a man in that way I reckon you’d better call round with a rope and string me up. It’ll suit me fust rate. Let the current take ye square; we’ll fetch up somewhere I reckon, and when we do, and I onc’t git on the trail of that Dick Garrett, won’t I make him howl!” Even as he spoke the two men were moving on a course diagonal with the current, the stronger man giving all the support he could to his wounded companion. But the shore seemed far away and Wescott felt that he could not go much further. “Save yourself,” he gasped. “My wound has opened again and I am losing strength.” “I won’t do it,” replied Tom, through his set teeth. “Hold up a little; I’ll save you yet.” “There is no hope,” replied Wescott. “Avenge me if you can and save my daughter from that villain. You can do me better service in that way than by staying with me now.” At this moment the surge came down heavily and buried the speaker beneath the water. Tom paddled to and fro, looking for him in vain, for the water had claimed its prey, and nerving himself to the task the young man struck out resolutely for the shore, which he reached nearly exhausted. Then he ran along the bank and looked for some sign of Wescott, but he looked in vain. The surface of the river was blank. CHAPTER VIII. MELTON’S SCOUT—A BUSH FIGHT.