CHAPTER XX

AN EXCITING RESCUE

WITH him Rush had carried a life ring attached to the end of a rope, the other end of the rope having been, with rare presence of mind, made fast to the rail by him before leaping.

He reached his companion just as Bob's head drooped over and he lost consciousness. Still, Jarvis kept his grip on the arm of the child. Rush had to tear the girl's dress in order to wrench Jarvis's grip free of her. In so doing Steve lost the life ring. It was carried away from him in a twinkling. Now he had two persons on his hands with the seas rolling over him almost mountain high, though the ship, being on the windward side, protected them somewhat.

"Haul in and cast the ring!" Steve managed to shout, just before he was jammed choking under a heavy wave.

Rush threw himself on his back with his head toward the ship, one arm under Marie and the other arm supporting Bob, who was making desperate efforts to help himself, though unable to do much in that direction. Then Rush began kicking himself slowly toward the vessel, which had been shifted about and was once more drifting down on them.

"Cast your lines before you get close enough to hit us!" Steve cried when he could do so without getting a mouthful of water.

Unfortunately those on deck were not very good shots at this sort of target work and their life rings went far wide of the mark. The ropes on all but one of them slipped through the hands of the casters and dropped into the sea.

"Lubbers!" roared the captain from the pilot-house window.

Steve caught the third ring. Twisting the rope about the body of Marie just under her arms, he tore the ring loose.

"Haul up, quick!" he shouted, swimming along with the child after having thrust the life ring over the head of Bob Jarvis. Steve held to the girl so that she should not be thrown against the ship head first, which would have seriously injured her at least, and perhaps killed her then and there. Possibly the little girl was dead already. Rush did not know, but he thought he had detected life when he first grasped her.

"Hurry, hurry!" he cried.

The girl was hauled free of the water, and, limp and lifeless, she was tenderly lifted over the rail. Captain Simms, after hurling some brief directions at the man at the wheel, dashed from the pilot-house, down the steps and along the deck to the stern, where Marie lay on the deck. The father lost no time in getting at work on her.

"Save those boys if it costs the ship to do it!" he roared. "Major, use your wits! Get them out, I tell you. I'll hold you personally responsible for their rescue!"

"Rush is hit!" shouted a voice excitedly.

Looking over they saw Steve striking out blindly to where Bob was floating away helplessly on the sea. It was plain that Rush had been stunned by being thrown against the side of the ship. Still, by sheer pluck, he was keeping himself up and swimming, but with evident effort, toward his companion. Bob was in a helpless condition and every second the life ring was slipping up and threatening to bob out from under his head. Were that to happen there was little chance that he would be saved.

Steve tried to shout to them, but his voice would not come. He swallowed enough water in these attempts to drown the ordinary person. His eyes were so full of water and he was so dazed from the bump he had sustained, that he could not make out where Jarvis was.

"Port! Port!" roared a voice from the deck.

Steve caught the direction and veered a little to port.

"More port. Can you keep it up?"

Rush did not answer, for he was beyond answering. Only his wonderful pluck and endurance were keeping him from throwing up his hands and sinking under the surface.

With a final burst of speed he reached his companion. Steve threw out one hand and fastened on the other Iron Boy. As he did so the ring slipped from Jarvis's head and floated away.

Rush realized at once what had happened, and began upbraiding himself for his carelessness. The knowledge seemed to give him new strength. His body fairly leaped from the water as he took several powerful strokes toward the drowning Bob.

"Wake up!" cried Steve, shaking his companion roughly.

Jarvis mumbled in reply, and tried feebly to help himself, but he was too weak and too full of water to accomplish anything.

Steve, by a great effort, twisted his companion about and began swimming toward the ship with him.

Shouts and suggestions were hurled at him from the ship, but he did not hear them. The Iron Boy was making the fight of his life. At last, after mighty struggles, he managed to get near enough to the "Richmond" to catch a line that was tossed to him. This he quickly made fast about Jarvis's waist and waved a hand to indicate that the men above were to haul away.

Steve lay over on his back on the water with a great sigh of relief as the men began hauling the other boy toward the deck.

"Get a line over there to Rush!" thundered the captain. "Don't you see the boy is drowning?"

But Steve missed every line that was tossed to him. He was making powerful efforts to pull himself together sufficiently to save himself, but he could not do so.

"Take care of the child, Major. Keep pumping the water out of her. She'll be all right in a moment," cried the captain. "Give me a line, quick!"

Before the brave skipper could carry out his purpose of climbing over the rail preparatory to dropping into the lake, another man swiftly leaped to the rail and let himself drop feet first. He carried two lines with him.

"It's Smith, the stoker!" cried a chorus of voices.

It was indeed the stoker, the enemy of the Iron Boys, who had determined to avenge himself on them for the insults he believed they had heaped upon him.

What sudden revulsion of feeling led the stoker to risk his life to save that of Steve Rush none ever knew, nor would he ever afterwards discuss it. Smith was a powerful fellow, a man who feared nothing and besides, he was a strong swimmer.

He pounced upon Rush as if he were about to do him bodily injury. It was the work of but a moment to make fast the line about the boy's body.

"Get him up, and be quick!" yelled the stoker.

A cheer rose from the deck; two men at this time were working over Bob, while the captain, having returned to his daughter, was ministering to her.

Steve was hauled aboard, where he settled down in a heap. The sailors turned him face downward, and then some one happened to think of the stoker. Smith was keeping himself from being jammed against the side of the ship by holding both hands against the side of it and hurling angry imprecations at those on deck who had apparently forgotten his existence.

"Smi--Smith--Get him!" muttered Steve.

"Put a ladder over the side! Lash it to the rail and give the man a line with which to steady himself!" commanded the captain. "Come, come! Have you all lost your senses?"

His orders were carried out with a snap, and a moment later the dripping figure of Smith appeared above the level of the deck.

"You're a fine lot of lubbers," growled the stoker. "You let a man go overboard and then forget he's there. I ought to throw the bunch of you overboard."

"Take those boys to their cabins as soon as you get the water out of them," ordered Captain Simms.

"No, no; I'm all right," protested Steve, pulling himself together and staggering away from the men who were thumping him with their closed fists, hoping in that way to bring him back to himself.

The stoker had betaken himself to the fire room to dry off. His face had once more regained its surly, hang-dog expression, and he made rough answers to the few questions that were put to him by his fellow-workers in the stoke-hole.

At last the workers succeeded in shaking most of the water out of Bob Jarvis. He had swallowed a lot of it and was so weak that he could not stand.

At Steve's suggestion they carried Bob around on the lee side of the after deck-house. The steward came running out with a bottle of brandy, some of which he sought to pour down between the boy's blue lips. Jarvis thrust the bottle aside, half angrily.

"None--none of that horrible stuff for me! I--I'd rather be full of Lake Superior water and--and _that's_ the limit----"

Steve stooped over, and placing his hands under the other boy's arms, lifted him to his feet.

"Brace up! You're all right now," encouraged Rush.

"Yes. I'm all right, _only_----"

The sailors laughed at this; then they shouted, more from relief from the strain under which they had been laboring than because of the humor of Jarvis's reply.

"Want to go in and lie down now?" questioned Steve, barely able to keep his feet.

"No!"

"Then we'll walk and see if we can get our sea legs," proposed Steve, slipping an arm about his companion's waist and starting slowly toward the stern. The boys could hardly keep their feet, they were still so weak. They staggered from one side of the passage to the other, but their iron grit kept them up.

"How is little Marie?" demanded Jarvis, suddenly turning to Rush.

"Come; we will go and see. We were forgetting our duty," muttered Steve, starting for the cabin, where the little girl had been taken.