So Bob set out on a weary trot down along the shore to where they had hidden their canoe. Tom waited by Harvey, trying to keep him warm, or, rather, to restore warmth to him, by rubbing; but Harvey was chilled through and through and shivered pitifully. It was fully an hour, and seemed ten to Tom, before Bob appeared in sight again. They lifted Harvey into the canoe and set out for the Narrows. Poor Bob was well-nigh exhausted, and it was Tom who did about all the paddling. They reached the Narrows, however, after what seemed an endless journey, driving their paddles through the water with arms that almost refused to obey the wills that forced them to work. When they had reached the Narrows, Tom set out for Harvey’s camp, leaving Bob to wait with Harvey. Tom had not gone more than half a mile, however, when he ran into the entire crew, who had become alarmed at Harvey’s long absence, knowing that he had gone out in the canoe, and had started out in search of him. Tom’s white face, pallid with weariness, filled them with terror, as he rushed up to them and sank down on a knoll, breathless. “Why, it’s Tom Harris,” exclaimed Joe Hinman. “For Heaven’s sake, what is it? Did you see Jack? Is he drowned?” He rattled off the questions excitedly, before Tom could find breath to answer. “He’s all right, I guess,” Tom said, in a moment. “He isn’t drowned. He’s over there the other side of the Narrows; Bob’s with him. He is most dead with cold, though. You better get him over to camp quick or he will die.” They were off like mad, on the run for the Narrows, before he had finished. Tom waited to rest a few moments more, and then set off slowly for Harvey’s camp. “There’s enough of them to bring him,” he said. “I guess Bob and I have done about all we can to-night.” When he had reached Harvey’s camp, however, he waited only to rest and warm himself by the brands of a fire which the campers had left, before he began to make what preparations he could to receive the boys when they should return with Harvey. There was a big pile of wood at hand, and he started the fire up afresh, after having first pushed the brands nearer the tent, so that the fire would send a comforting warmth inside. Then he brought out a pair of blankets and put them near the fire to warm through. He hung a kettle of water on the stick provided for it, and rummaged through the campers’ stock for the coffee. Presently the sound of voices told him that the crew were at hand. Stepping to the door of the tent, he saw the strange group approaching. They had not taken Harvey from the canoe, but had let him lie there, while they lifted the canoe and carried it along, two boys at either end, bearing the weight with a stick stretched underneath to support it. Alongside plodded Bob, holding to the gunwale, to assist in steadying it. They approached and set the canoe down, just outside the tent door.