When Cole again came to the surface Merriwell was near enough to make a quick, forward lunge and seized him. Fortunate indeed was this for the fellow entangled in the rope, as he could make no effective efforts to keep himself afloat, and his struggle to free his limbs was sufficient to cause him to sink again only for Dick’s promptness in reaching him. Fortunately for the would-be rescuer, Cole’s hands were bound to his sides by the rope which had become wound about him, and, therefore, he could not clutch Merriwell.
Nevertheless, he struggled to free himself, at the same time choking and strangling as Dick sought to keep his mouth and nose above the surface.
“Be still!” ordered Dick. “Are you anxious to drown? If you keep still we’ll get you out all right.”
At first the helpless fellow did not seem to hear, but after a while Merriwell succeeded in impressing upon him the idea that he was hindering his own rescue by his efforts, and when Cole gave up struggling Dick found it no great task to keep him afloat.
By this time Buckhart had brought the canoe round close to them and cautiously reached over to grasp Cole by the shoulder.
“Don’t let him catch hold and upset me, Dick,” warned the Texan. “He’s liable to do it.”
“Not now,” answered Merriwell. “Not until he can use his hands.”
By the time Dick freed Cole from the rope, which he finally succeeded in doing, both he and Brad had impressed it upon the fellow that it would be fatal to catch hold of the side of the canoe. They induced him to wait until the stern of the canvas craft was swung round to him, and then, directed by Dick, he got hold of it.
“Paddle toward the shore, Buckhart!” cried Merriwell. “You will have to tow him into shallow water.”
“Why can’t I git into the canoe?” asked Cole. “I’m afraid I’ll let go and sink.”
“If you attempted to get into that canoe you’d upset it, and then you would have a chance to sink or swim,” answered Dick. “If you keep the hold you have we’ll get you close to shore so that you can wade out.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I am going to stay with you,” assured Dick. “Don’t be afraid of that. I’ll not try to get into that canoe.”
“Could you do it without upsetting it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why can’t I?”
“You don’t know the trick.”
“Is it a trick?”
“Certainly it is. Not one man in a hundred who uses a canoe can do it.”
In spite of his peril Cole’s curiosity seemed to be aroused, and he asked:
“How did you know the trick?”
“It was taught me by an Indian,” answered Merriwell.
In the meantime Buckhart was carefully and slowly paddling toward the near shore. As has been stated, this shore was very rocky, and when the prow of the canoe softly touched these rocks neither Cole nor Dick could reach bottom with his feet and still keep his head above the surface.
“Jingoes!” exclaimed Merriwell, “it must fall off almost perpendicular from the water’s edge here; but we’re close to the shore, and you can swim that far, Cole.”
“I don’t know,” answered Jack doubtingly. “I’m afraid I can’t do it now. My clothes are heavy as lead, and I can’t swim much, anyhow.”
“I opine it’s a whole lot lucky for you that my pard went into the drink to give you a hand,” said the Texan. “Just hang on and I’ll swing the prow round close to the rocks.”
This he finally did, and not until Jack Cole could almost touch the rocks did his feet reach bottom. Even then the bank seemed so precipitous that he was afraid to let go his hold on the canoe, and only with the assistance of Dick did he finally succeed in dragging himself out.
Merriwell followed him.
“There you are,” he said. “You had a pretty good bath, and you’re fortunate to get out of it so well.”
For the first time Cole seemed to think of his late companion.
“Where’s Fernald?” he asked.
“Echo answers, ‘where?’” said Dick.
“What became of him?”
“He scooted.”
“Scooted?”
“Yes.”
“You mean that he left me to drown?”
“He didn’t linger long after you went overboard.”
Slowly a look of anger came to Jack Cole’s plain face.
“So that’s the kind of a man he is!” exclaimed the Maplewood boy savagely. “Left me to drown when I was all tangled up in that rope, did he? Well, he’ll hear from me!”
“In the future,” suggested Buckhart, “I should advise you to be some particular in the choice of your side partners.”
“Who fired that shot from the island?” demanded Dick.
“What shot?” asked Jack, in apparent surprise.
“Don’t you know anything about it?”
“Not a thing.”
“Pitch him into the drink again, partner, if he doesn’t own up!” cried the Texan, in exasperation.
Cole scrambled back from the edge of the water quickly, snarling:
“Don’t you try it! Don’t you touch me!”
“Don’t worry,” retorted Dick. “If you haven’t learned your lesson by this time you never will. You’d better own up about the shooting.”
“Don’t know nothing about no shooting,” sullenly persisted the Maplewood boy.
“Didn’t you hear the shot?”
“No.”
“Now you know he’s lying, Dick!” cried Buckhart. “Of course he heard it! I reckon he fired it himself!”
“That’s a lie!” shouted Jack excitedly. “If any one says such a thing about me he lies!”
“It was fired from that island,” said Merriwell, “and the bullet came pretty near me, too. Weren’t you on the island with Fernald?”
“No.”
“But we saw you leaving it.”
“Never,” denied Cole. “We just paddled past the island and saw you coming after us.”
“What made you try to get away?”
Jack hesitated, and seemed to find it difficult to answer. After a time he muttered:
“That’s none of your business! Perhaps we wanted to see if you could ketch us.”
“Well, I certain judge you found out,” said Buckhart.
“You came near drowning me!” grated Cole. “If that had happened you’d been to blame.”
“You ought to be some ashamed to talk that fashion,” said the Texan; “but I don’t opine there’s anything like shame in you. Come on, Dick, we’ll go back and make out a complaint against him. We’ll have him arrested for firing that shot.”
“Go ahead,” sneered Cole. “That’s all the good it’ll do you.”
Deciding it was useless to waste further words on the fellow, Dick stepped into the canoe as Buckhart again swung the prow close to the shore.
“You’ll have time to think it over while you’re walking round the shore to Maplewood,” said Merriwell. “Remember that Tom Fernald deserted you and left you to drown.”
“And don’t forget,” suggested Buckhart, “that Dick Merriwell jumped in and pulled you out some.”
The Texan then swung the canoe round and began paddling away.
Cole remained watching them some minutes, but finally turned and plodded off, soon disappearing from view.
Returning to the clubhouse, the boys told of their adventure, arousing the indignation of the listeners.
“It was sheer carelessness for any one to be shooting in such a manner,” said William Drake.
“It was a whole lot more than carelessness,” averred Buckhart. “I opine one of us was the target aimed at.”
“Impossible!” exclaimed Drake. “I can’t believe such a thing. No, no, my boy; you must be mistaken. No one round here would do such a thing.”
“I’m not disputing with you, sir,” retorted the Texan; “but I presume you will let me hold my own opinion on that point.”
As the only change of clothing he had with him was a baseball suit, Dick soon got into that, while his wet garments were hung out to dry.
Less than an hour after the adventure on the lake the boys were surprised............