"I'll promise," gulped the child. Then Hal's powerful arm flung itself upwards, his two hands "boosted," and Freddy landed on the upturned canoe, gripping it with all fours and coughing the water from his mouth. Hal made an attempt to climb up, his fingers slipped; then two terrible little demons seemed to grasp the calves of his legs; their fingers ripped the muscles out and tied them into knots, knots that extended to his knees, his hips, his stomach; his fingers weakened with the agony of it--Hal Bennington knew he was going down with cramps. Away off to the right he thought he heard a voice; it was saying, "Keep up, Hal, keep up, I'm coming!" but he could not answer. With a last effort he literally screamed, "Hang on, Freddy, hang on!" Then he felt numb, very numb, and all was dark. Professor Warwick had gone out to furl the awnings against the rising wind. His kindly little eyes were peering through their spectacles at sea and sky when suddenly they rested on a frail canoe that was taking an erratic course toward the island. Instantly he was around at the other side of the cottage. "Boys, boys," he shouted frantically, "Quick, get out the sailboat, Hal's canoe is in danger!" "Sailboat!" gasped Cop Billings, springing to his feet; "she's no good; bottom's out, a whole patch of her. She's being repaired." But while he talked he was running wildly to the boathouse followed by all the others. As they reached the little wharf they were just in time to see the combers strike the canoe, to see Freddy start, then to see it capsize. For a moment they were horror-stricken, speechless, then Cop yelled, "He's got Freddy! See, he's got him!" It seemed an eternity before they saw Hal grasp the child, then with more horror they saw the upturned canoe floating away, away, away. "Boys, boys, can nothing be done to help them?" choked the Professor. "Oh, boys, this is terrible!" "Who swims?" yelled Shorty, "--swims well, I mean." "You do," jerked Shag at his elbow, with a face bloodless and drawn. "You're the best swimmer in the school. Will you come with me?" "Come with you?" yelled Shorty. "Out there? Why, you know as well as I do that I can't swim that far, not nearly that far; neither can you." "I can, and I will," announced Shag in a strangely quiet voice, while with rapid fingers he stripped off his coat and boots. "You shan't go alone," shouted Cop, beginning to undress; "I'm with you!" "No, you don't," said the Indian, gripping him by the wrist. "You can't swim twenty yards--you know you can't; and if you get played out, Cop, I tell you right here that I can't stop to help you; I'm going to help Hal." "Why can't you try it, Shorty?" roared Cop "Anything rather than let him go alone!"