"Maybe I had better come down and help you," he added.
"No, I—I'm all ri—right!" spluttered the senator's son, freeing his mouth of water.
At last one of the rocks was moved and Phil staggered forward in the water. But he was too weak to help himself and had to lean on Roger.
"You can't pull us up!" shouted the senator's son. "We'll wade down the stream a bit."
Supporting the shipowner's son, Roger commenced to move down the mountain torrent. He had to pick his way with care, for the bottom was rocky and treacherous. Dave followed along the rocks above, until a spot was gained where he could leap down. Then he and the senator's son picked up Phil between them and carried him out, and up to a patch of grass, where they set the sufferer down in the sunlight.
"We'll take off his shoes and see how his feet and ankles look," said Dave, and this was done. They found the feet and ankles slightly swollen and discolored, but not seriously injured.
"Phil, supposing Roger and I carry you back to camp?" suggested Dave. "We can make an armchair and do it easily enough."
"If it isn't too much trouble I'd be glad to have you do it," answered the boy who had slipped over the rocks. "I can't walk yet."
