the rock and drew himself closer until he had wrapped his arm about it. The rest of the rock was wide and flat and lay just a few inches beneath the surface.
Slowly, Joe clambered on to this precarious refuge, dragging the half-conscious boy with him. The rock was big enough to provide foothold for them both.
The boy was unable to help himself, as he was limp and weak from his experience. Just as he was almost on the rock Joe lost his grip on the lad's collar for a second, and the current whirled him to one side. The lad toppled backward, striking his head on the rock, but Joe made a frantic grab for him, at imminent risk of precipitating himself into the water again.
His fingers closed about the back of the lad's shirt and he managed to haul the boy to safety once more.
But the blow had rendered the lad unconscious. He lay limply on the flat rock, with the water breaking about his body, while Joe, his clothes drenched, clung to him.
"Get help! Get a rope!" Joe shouted, to his companions on the bank.
Frank and Chet lost no time.
They fled back toward the old mill.
The affair in the river had passed unnoticed by the millers, and when Chet and Frank
