Again the cry came, this time more distinctly, from somewhere out on the water. They heard the words, “Help! Help!” uttered in a choking voice, as of a man drowning. The boys rushed down to the water’s edge and peered out over the bay, straining their eyes to see whence the sound came. “Hulloa! Hulloa! Where are you? What’s the matter? Call again!” cried Tom. They listened, and in a moment the voice came again weirdly over the water, though they could not distinguish this time the words. “Why, there it is,” cried Bob, all at once, pointing as he spoke. “Don’t you see it, Tom? I declare, but it’s queer we didn’t see it before. Look, there’s something floating only about an eighth of a mile out,—and there’s something moving a little distance from it. Why, Tom, I’ll tell you what it is. It’s a canoe—it’s Jack Harvey—and he’s upset—he’s drowning. Just look, where I am pointing.” “Yes, I see,” exclaimed Tom, excitedly. “I just saw a splash. He’s upset, sure enough, and struggling. I say, Bob, we’ve got to swim out. Our canoe is too far. Keep up! We’re coming!” he called, and began hurriedly to strip off his clothing. In a moment the two boys were in the water, striking out wildly toward the object that seemed to be a canoe floating in the water. “Hold on there, Bob,” cried Tom, presently. “We mustn’t try to be too fast. We’ll only waste our strength. We’ll need it all when we get there. Let’s calm down, now, and not get excited. We’ve got to keep our heads.” Then, as they surged ahead, with long, powerful strokes, the voice again came, calling chokingly for help. There could be no mistaking it now. It was Jack Harvey. “Quick!” he cried, “quick! I can’t hold on long. I’m hurt.” They quickened their strokes, and in a moment more came in plain sight of Harvey, struggling feebly to keep above water. “Hold on for a moment, Jack,” said Tom, as they came up to him. “Don’t grab us, now. Let us do the work. You just keep on paddling, what you can, and we’ll save you.” “I won’t grab you,” gasped Harvey. “Just get on each side of me and let me put my hands on your shoulders for a moment, till I get my strength back. I’ve swallowed a lot of water.” The two swam up close, and Harvey reached up and rested a hand on each shoulder. “Swim for the canoe now,” said Tom. “We’ll let him get hold of the end of that and cling on for a few moments till he gets his breath. He’ll be all right, I think.” Reaching the overturned canoe, they helped him to clasp one end of it, and then supported him there, as they began to push it toward shore by swimming with their feet and with a single hand each. For a few moments Harvey managed to hold on, but then his strength seemed to fail him and his hands slipped their hold. “I can’t hold on,” he gasped. “Something’s hurting me.” “Then lie over on your back and float,” said Tom. “Just lie still and we’ll swim you in.”