"Then he must be down to the lake bottom by this time."
"He was on the raft with you?"
"Yes. He and I left the tug to see to the chains when the storm came up."
"Where is the tug?"
"The raft broke away from her at the fust blow. A fool of a greenhorn was a-managin' of the thing, an' this is the result. Come here—it's safer."
Dick was perfectly willing to crawl closer to the burly lumberman, who was a good fellow, as could be seen by a glance.
"We'll be all right, if this section o' the lumber keeps together," went on the lumberman. "There are four chains here, so it ought to hold."
Once safe, for the time being, Dick began to wonder about the fate of the Swallow.
"Did the yacht go down?" he asked anxiously.
"I reckon not, young man. They burned red fire, you know. They wouldn't do that if there was much trouble aboard."
"That is true." Dick was silent for a moment. "I wish I could get back to her."
"Be thankful that ye aint at the bottom o' the lake. If we kin outride this storm we'll be safe enough, for the tug will be lookin' for the raft when it gits light."
