A dozen men and boys tried to help,
all at once, but Dave and Harry saw to it that no speed was lost
by blundering.
The raft was not difficult to push out over the ice.
"Now, let me have it alone," shouted Dave. "The ice may break
at any point beyond."
So Dave tugged and pushed, guiding the small raft before him.
Cra-ack! Dave and the raft went through the ice, but Darrin quickly
climbed up astride of the ties.
Out beyond, Dick was holding up Fred Ripley, whom he had found
and brought to the surface. Fred's eyes were nearly closed.
After his second drop below, the Ripley lad was nearly spent.
Glancing back, Dave saw that another raft was being pushed out
by the two men who held the rope that was noosed under his shoulders.
"Now, halt where you are!" Dave Darrin shouted back. "Toss me
a long rope that I can throw out to Prescott!"
The rope came swirling. Dave caught it easily enough. Then,
still sitting on the raft, his legs, of course, in the water,
Darrin recoiled the rope.
"Can you spare a hand to catch, Dick?" shouted Dave.
"Surely!" came back the steady answer.
The coil flew out across the thin ice. One end splashed in the
water. Guiding the all but helpless Fred, Dick swam to the rope's
end.
Further back the two men who held to the rope connecting with
Dave had seated themselves across the second raft. If the ice
broke at _that_ point they would have little difficulty in making
themselves safe.
"Ripley, stir yourself!" ordered Dick.
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