They could hear shouting on the shore, though not daring to pay any attention to it just then, lest it distract their minds from the dangerous business they had on hand.
No doubt some one had discovered that a little child was coming floating down on the swollen current of the river, and the startling news was being communicated from mouth to mouth with the astonishing celerity with which such things can travel.
Had the boys but glanced toward the bank they would have seen people running madly to and fro, and gathering in larger clusters than ever wherever they could get a chance to see out upon the raging waters.
Max had calculated things carefully. He did not want to make any mistake when he clambered over the railing, because such a thing might be fatal to whatever hope he had of rescuing the child.
They could now see plainly that it was a little boy. He was clinging to some part of the surging roof, which seemed to be in danger of capsizing at any moment, for it wobbled fearfully. Max prayed that it would hold its own until he had been given a chance to do his part. He also hoped that he would have sufficient strength in his arms to snatch the child, and then hold him, while his chums tugged and pulled to get them both safely up to the bridge.
As he watched the coming of the fragment of a roof, he was doing some nice calculating, making up his mind just how he must seize upon the one he wished to save, and allow nothing to keep him from obtaining full possession. He had feared that the child might have been tied there by his mother, and had such proven to be the case a rescue must have been well nigh hopeless; but the closer the onrushing object came the more Max assured himself that there did not seem to be any obstacle to his success.
He was over the rail now. Those on shore must have seen what the boy meant to try and accomplish, for all of a sudden a terrible hush had fallen on the gathered groups. Every eye was doubtless glued on the figure that clung to the rail out there, over the rushing waters, waiting for the proper second to arrive. Women unconsciously hugged their own little ones all the tighter to their breasts, perhaps sending up sincere thanks that it was not their child in peril; and at the same time mute prayers must have gone out from many hearts that the brave boy succeed in his mission.
"Steady, Max, old pal!" said Steve, who was braced there for the expected strain. "Don't worry about us, for we'll back you up. Get a clutch on him, and the rest is going to be easy. Ready now!"
Max heard all this but was paying no attention to what was being said. His whole mind was concentrated on the swaying roof of the wrecked cabin, and the piteous sight of that frightened little fellow clinging desperately there.
He could not depend on anything his chums might decide, but must himself judge of the proper time to drop down. The swiftness of the current had to be taken into consideration, as well as the swaying of the wreckage.
When he felt sure of himself Max suddenly let go his precarious hold on the lower part of the railing. It was a bold thing to do, and must have sent a shudder through many a breast ashore, as men and women held their breath, and stared at the thrilling spectacle.
Fortunately Max Hastings was no ordinary lad. He not only had a faculty for laying out plans, but the ability to execute the same as well. And besides that, his love of outdoor life had given him such a muscular development that athletic feats were possible with him such as would have proven rank failures with many other boys.
His judgment proved accurate, for he dropped exactly upon the fragment of the cabin roof, and directly in front of the crouching child. The little fellow must have been watching him, for instantly two hands were outstretched toward Max as though some intuition told the child that his only hope of escape from the angry flood lay in the coming of this boy.
Like a flash Max swooped down upon him. His movements were wonderfully quick, because he knew that this was absolutely necessary when coping with such a treacherous enemy as that moving flood.
He snatched the child up in one arm and held him almost fiercely to his breast. If the little fellow gave utterance to any sort of cry Max failed to hear it, though that in itself might not be so very strange, for there were all sorts of roaring sounds in his ears just then.
Almost at the same instant he felt himself roughly plucked off his feet, and being swung upward. His comrades were tugging at the rope savagely, knowing that unless they were very speedy Max would find himself engulfed in the waters; and the work of rescue be made doubly difficult.
The rope proved equal to the terrific strain, thanks to Toby's good judgment when selecting a braided line with which to play the role of cow puncher and lariat thrower.
Max felt the water around his legs, but that was all, for he did not go down any further than his knees; and yet the suction was tremendous even at that.
He was now being slowly but surely drawn upward, and this was a task that called for the united powers of the three who had hold of the rope. Bandy-legs had been wise enough to wrap the end around a beam that projected from the flooring of the bridge. He did not know what might happen, and was determined that Max should not be swept away on the flood, if it came to the worst.
When they had drawn their comrade far enough up so that Steve, calling on the others to hold fast, bent down and took the child from the grasp of Max, it was an easy matter for the latter to clamber over the rail himself.
Steve was already holding the rescued child up so that those on shore could see that the attempt at rescue had met with a glorious success; for he was naturally proud of his chum's work.
A deep-throated hum broke out; it was the sound of human voices gathering force; and then a wild salvo of cheers told that the good people of Carson could appreciate a brave deed when they saw it, no matter if disaster did hover over the town, and kept them shivering with a dread of what was coming next.
Some of the more impetuous would have started to rush out on the bridge, in order to tell Max what they thought of him; only that several cool-headed men kept these impulsive ones back.
"Keep off!" they kept shouting, waving the crowd away; "if you rushed out there now it would be the last straw to send the bridge loose from its moorings. Stay where you are, men, women! You would only invite a terrible tragedy by going on the bridge!"
"Bring the child to us, boys!" some of the men shouted, waving to the little group out there; since the mountain was not to be allowed to come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain.
"Take him across, Max!" said Bandy-legs. "Steve, you take him!" urged Max, not wishing to be lionized, because he happened to be an unusually modest lad, and it bothered him to have men and women wanting to shake him by the hand, telling him how brave he was, and all that.
Steve wanted to protest, but he could see that his chum really meant it, and did not intend to allow himself to be made a hero of, if he could help it.
"Oh! all right then, I'll go, Max, while you look out for my camera, like a good fellow. But see here, if you think I'll let anybody mistake me for the one who grabbed up this baby from the raft at the risk of his life, you've got another guess coming to you, that's right. I'm meaning to tell everybody that it was Max Hastings did it. Huh! any fellow could just keep hold of the end of a rope, and pull up like we did. That was the easiest part of it. You wait and see if you get out as slick as you think you will. They'll remember, and lay for you later on. If you will do these things, why, you've got to take your medicine, that's all."
So saying Steve hurried toward the shore, carrying the little child tenderly in his arms. Doubtless some one would be sure to recognize the small chap who had had such a narrow escape from a terrible fate; and if not just then, he would be well looked after until his folks turned up later on.
The wildest sort of reception was given Steve when he once got ashore. He could be seen trying to fend off the many hands that were outstretched to seize upon his digits, and give them a squeeze of approval, for deeds like this arouse the warmest sentiments in the human heart. In vain did Steve declare that it had been Max who had taken all the risks in the endeavor to save a precious little life; but the crowd would not keep back, and insisted that he let them do him honor. He had done his part in the rescue work at least, and was entitled to their congratulations, and they would not be denied.
Steve hastened to push his burden into the arms of the first woman who manifested the least desire to get hold of the child; and after that he pressed his way out of the crowd, heading once more for the imperiled bridge.
"Better come off there, now, Steven!" warned a gentleman who was standing near the approach to the structure; "there isn't one chance in a thousand that she'll hold out much longer, and it might be all your lives are worth to go down with the wreck when the time comes!"
But Steve was young, and filled with the spirit of adventure. Besides, after having been out there so long he had become partly used to the sickening tremor, and did not mind its warning as much as before.
"That's for Max to say, Mr. Harding," he called back. "If he thinks it's getting too dangerous for us, we'll sure come in right away. I've got to leave it with Max."
Two minutes later and he joined his chums, who were still near the middle of the bridge, again looking up the river anxiously.
"See another baby coming along?" demanded Steve, as he joined them.
"Not yet, I'm glad to say," replied Max, who was not so inflated over the grand success that had attended his first life saving effort that he wanted other opportunities to confront them immediately.
"L-l-looked like they came near p-p-pulling you to p-p-pieces, Steve," remarked Toby, with a grin.
"That's right," agreed Steve, frowning; "everybody tried to grab my hand at the same time, and me a telling them all the while I didn't have a thing to do with saving the child, only hauling on the rope. Say, I know now why you wouldn't go ashore, Max; you didn't want to be mobbed, did you? It's just terrible I'm telling you all. If I ever save anybody's life I'm going to take to the woods right away, till everybody forgets it."
"I saw Mr. Harding talking to you; what did he say?" asked Max, smiling a little to find that Steve was so modest.
"Oh! like a good many more of 'em he thinks we're taking too big chances staying right along out here, and that we ought to come ashore," Steve replied.
"He means it for our good, all right," ventured Bandy-legs, "and you know, fellers, he had a boy drowned year before last, so I reckon he's worried about us more than a little. What did you tell him, Steve?"
"That I'd leave it to Max here," came the reply.
"Which is putting a lot of responsibility on my poor shoulders," remarked that worthy, with a shrug.
"Well, you're our leader, and as long as we believe you know best we expect to follow out your ideas," Steve went on to say.
"That sounds pretty fine, Steve," observed Max; "but right now if I told you I thought we'd better go ashore you'd kick like a steer."
"Oh! well, you see there doesn't seem to be any very great danger as long as a big tree ain't swooping down to strike the bridge a crack; and besides, what if another baby happened to come sailing along on a raft, what'd we think of ourselves if we'd gone up on the bank, and couldn't even make a break to save it?"
Steve argued fairly well, and Max did not attempt to press the matter. To tell the truth he was tempted to linger to the very last in the hope of being instrumental in doing more good. If one child had been sent adrift in the flood, perhaps there might be others also in need of succor. And so Max, usually so cautious, allowed himself to be tempted to linger even when his better judgment warned him of the terrible risks they ran.
"Some of that crowd think we're sillies for staying out here, don't they, Steve?" Bandy-legs asked, after a little time had elapsed, without their sighting any more precious cargoes coming down on the flood.
"Yes, I heard a lot of 'em say things that way, because they've got a notion in their heads the bridge is agoin' out any old minute. But there's another lot that don't believe shucks. I heard one boy say there wasn't a bit of danger, and that we got all the credit of being mighty reckless and brave without taking any big risk."
"Bet you I can give a guess who that was," ventured Bandy-legs, instantly.
"Let's hear, then," Steve told him.
"It sounds like that braggin' Shack Beggs," was the guess Bandy-legs hazarded.
"Go up head, old scout," chuckled Steve; "because you hit it the first shot. Yes, that's who it was, Shack Beggs, and both the other bullies were along with him, watching everything we did out here, and looking like they'd be mighty well pleased if the old bridge did break loose and carry us all down river, hanging on like a parcel of half drowned rats."
"I wouldn't put it past them to help things along, if only they knew how they could start the bridge loose," Bandy-legs affirmed, positively, which showed what sort of an opinion he had for the trio of tough boys whom they had chased off, at the time they were robbing poor old Mr. McGirt, who kept the little candy shop that had been invaded by the rising waters.
"L-l-lucky for us they d-d-don't know h-h-how," said Toby, vigorously.
"It seems that when you get to talking about any one they're almost sure to appear," Max told them; "and look who's coming out on the bridge now."
"Why, it's Shack Beggs, sure it is!" declared Steve.
"Wonder what's he's up to?" muttered Bandy-legs. "We'd all better keep our peepers on that feller if he comes around. Why, I wouldn't put it past him to give one of us a sudden shove, and then laugh like he was crazy to see what a splash we made when we fell in. If I ketch him trying anything like that, mark my words Shack Beggs'll take a header into the river as quick as a flash. He'll find that two c'n play at that game!"
"Look at him, would you?" ventured Bandy-legs, a minute later. "He acts like he was trying to see if the bridge was steady, the way he's trying to shake it. Bet you he feels that quivering, and it's giving him a bad case of cold feet already. They went and dared him to come out here, and Shack never would stand for a dare, you know. But he's sorry he came."
The other boy approached them. He was looking more serious than most people had ever seen him appear. Just as Bandy-legs said, no doubt he had been forced into testing the bridge by some dare on the part of his cronies, who had told him he didn't have the nerve to go Max and his crowd one better by walking all the way across the bridge, so as to be the last who could say he had done it.
While still keeping a sharp lookout up the river the four chums awaited the coming of Shack Beggs; and that the caution given by Bandy-legs had fallen on good ground where it took root, was proven by the way they moved back from the railing.
If the young desperado had any bold intention of trying to upset one of the three chums into the river, he would not find it so easy to carry out his reckless plan, for they were evidently on the alert, and ready to match cunning with cunning.
Shack shuffled forward slowly. He may have originally thought it would be the easiest thing in the world to walk across the bridge and back; but that was before he had set foot on the quivering planks, and experienced the full effect of that sickening vibration. Now he walked as though he might be stepping on eggs. Several times he even stopped, and looked around. Perhaps he simply wanted to know how far out from the shore he might be; or else he felt an almost irresistible yearning to hurry back to safety and tell his cronies they could try the trick for themselves, if they wanted.
Some sort of pride caused him to come on. Max and his friends were there, and Shack Beggs would sooner die than let them see he lacked the stamina they were so freely showing.
All the same he looked anything but happy as he drew closer. It was one thing to stand on a firm foundation ashore, and look out at the heaving flood, and another to find himself there surrounded by the waters, with but a slender thread connecting him with either bank, and all that furious flood trying its best to break this asunder.
"Better come back, Shack!" could be heard in a rasping voice from the shore, and Ossie Kemp was seen making a megaphone out of his two hands.
Shack would no doubt have liked to do this same thing; but he felt that it must look too much like cowardice in the eyes of Max, whom he hated so bitterly. Besides he had started out to show the people of Carson that these four chums did not monopolize all the courage in town; and it was really too late to turn back now.
So Shack came slowly on until he had reached the others.
Under ordinary conditions he would never have ventured to say a single word to any one of the four chums; or if he did, it would have probably been in the nature of an ugly growl, and some sarcastic comment on their personal appearance, with the sinister hope of provoking a dispute that might lead to a scuffle.
Things somehow seemed different now. Shack must have left most of his pugnacious disposition ashore; when his nerves were quivering with each sickening shake of the bridge he could not find it in him to assume his customary boastful look.
And seeing Max close Shack even ventured to speak decently to him, something he would never have dreamed of doing had the conditions been other than they were.
"The fellers they sez I dassent cross over tuh t'other end uh the bridge; an' I allowed it could be done easy like," he went on to say; "what d'ye think 'bout me adoin' the same? Is she safe enough?"
"We wouldn't be here if we didn't think so," Max told him; "and I guess there isn't any more danger on the other side than in the middle."
"T'anks!" Shack jerked out; and then as the bridge gave a little harder quiver than usual he looked frightened, and even clutched frenziedly at the railing.
Bandy-legs must have fancied that the other was reaching out to lay hands on him, for he immediately shouted:
"Keep back there! Don't you dare touch a finger to me, or I'll see that you go over the railing head-first! We're on to your sly tricks, Shack Beggs! You didn't come out here for nothing, I take it!"
Shack however had managed to overcome his sudden fear. He shot a black scowl in the direction of Bandy-legs, and then once more started to move along; but by now his timidity had over-mastered his valor, as was made manifest in the way he kept moving his hand along the railing, as though unwilling to try to stand alone.
Although they no longer had any reason to feel that the other meant them any ill turn, the four chums watched him curiously.
"I'd just like to be able to give the bridge a good shake," Bandy-legs declared, "to see him crumple up, and yell. Chances are it'd scare him out of a year's growth."
"Huh! better not try any fool play like that," suggested Steve; "because there's too much tremble to the old thing right now to suit me. If Max only said the word I'd be willing to skip out of this, that's right."
"S-s-s'pose we all did run for it," remarked Toby, who had been silent a long time; "wouldn't Shack come c-c-chasing after us like h-h-hot cakes, though?"
"We'll limit our stay to another five minutes, no more," Max told them. "I put it at that because I believe before then we'll be able to say whether that thing coming down the river is a raft with somebody aboard, or just a jumble of logs, and stuff set afloat by the high water."
Apparently none of the others had up to then noticed what Max referred to, and consequently there was a craning, of necks, and a straining of eyes, until Steve was fain to call out "rubber!" in his jocular way.
There was something in sight, far up the river. If they only had their field glass along with them it would be easy to tell the nature of the object; but lacking so useful an article they could only possess their souls in patience, and wait.
The seconds passed, and all the while the current of the river was bringing that object closer to them. Max found himself wishing it would hasten, for truth to tell he did not much like the way the bridge was trembling now. Instead of occasional vibrations it seemed to be a steady pull, as though the force of the flood had reached a point where it could not be much longer held back.
Some of those ashore were shouting to them again, as though their fears had broken out once more, and they wished the boys would not persist in taking such great chances, even though in a good cause.
A minute had gone.
"Looks like a raft to me," announced Bandy-legs, presently, and the others were inclined to agree with him that far.
"But is there any one aboard?" asked Max.
"I c'n see something there, but just what it might be I wouldn't like to say," the boy with the eagle eye announced.
Still they lingered, although those heavings were gradually growing a trifle more pronounced all the while. They must have shattered what little nerve Shack Beggs had remaining, for although he had not gone more than half way between the four chums and the further shore, he had turned around, and was now approaching them again. His face looked strangely ghastly, owing to his deadly fear; and the way in which Shack tried to force a grin upon it only made matters worse.
He had the appearance of one who was solemnly promising himself that if only he might be allowed to reach a haven of safety again he would never more be guilty of attempting such a silly act on account of a dare.
In fact, Shack was watching the chums eagerly every second of the time now. He depended on them to serve as his barometer. Should they make a sudden move toward the Carson side of the river he was in readiness to fairly fly along, in the hope of catching up with them.
Max turned his attention once more up the stream, and toward that approaching floating object. He wondered whether he was going to be called upon to once more make use of that friendly rope in rescuing some flood sufferer from peril.
After all Bandy-legs was not so sure about its being a raft. He began to hedge, and change his mind.
"Might be only a bunch of fence rails, and such stuff, that's got driven together in the flood, and is coming down on us in a heap," he announced. Max had about come to the same conclusion himself, though hesitating to announce his opinion while the others seemed to have an entirely different idea about the thing.
"But do you see that dark object on it move any?" he asked Bandy-legs.
"Well, now, seemed to me it did move just then," came the answer, that caused the boys to once more rivet their gaze on the approaching float, while their nerves began, to tingle with suspense.
A few seconds later and Toby declared that he too had seen the thing raise its head; though he hastily added:
"But it didn't act like a h-h-human b-b-being any that I could notice."
"What in the dickens can it be?" Steve was asking, and then he gave a sort of gasp, for the bridge had actually swayed in a way that caused. his heart to seemingly stand still.
"She's agoing to move out right away, I do believe, boys!" cried Bandy-legs, as he looked longingly toward the shore.
There was Shack Beggs almost half-way to the end of the bridge, and walking as fast as he could. From his manner it looked as though Shack would only too gladly have sprinted for the land, only that he hated to hear the jeering remarks which his cronies were sure to send at him for showing the white feather; so he compromised by walking ever so fast.
"Hadn't we better be going, Max?" asked Steve.
"That's the stuff!" muttered Bandy-legs.
"M-m-me too!" added Toby.
Max took one last look up the river. As he did so he saw that there was now a decided movement aboard the floating mass of stuff that was coming down toward the bridge.
Whatever it was that had been lying there now struggled to its feet.
"Oh! would you look at that?" exclaimed Steve.
"Must be a calf!" echoed Bandy-legs.
"I'd s-s-say a yeller dog!" Toby declared.
"Anyhow it's an animal and not a human being," said Max; "and things are getting too shaky for us to stay any longer out here, and take chances, just to try and save a dog or a calf or a goat. Let's put for the shore, boys!"
"And every fellow run for it too!" added Steve, as again they felt that terrible shudder pass through the wooden structure that had spanned the Evergreen Elver as far back as they could remember; and which somehow forcibly reminded Max of the spasm apt to run through the muscles of a stricken animal before giving up the ghost.
That was enough to start them with a rush. Once they gave way to the feeling that it was close on the breaking point for the bridge and what might be likened to a small-sized panic took possession of them all.
Shack Beggs somehow seemed to scent their coming. Perhaps he felt the vibrations increase, or else the shouts that both Steve and Bandy-legs gave utterance to reached his strained hearing.
At any rate Shack twisted his head, and looked back over his shoulder. If he had been anxious to reach the shore before, he was fairly wild now to accomplish that same object. They could see him take a spurt. He no longer deigned to walk, but ran as though in a race; as indeed all of them were, even though as yet they hardly comprehended the fact.
It might be possible that this was the worst thing the boys could have done, and that had they been contented to walk quietly toward land they might have spared the already badly racked bridge a new strain.
Max, looking back later on, came to this same conclusion; but, then he always declared that if one only knew how things were about to come out, he could alter his plans accordingly; in other words he quoted the old and familiar saying to the effect that "what wonders we could accomplish if our foresight were only as good as our hindsight."
The shaking of the structure by the scampering along of five boys must have been pretty much like the last straw added to the camel's pack.
"Faster, everybody!" Max shouted, as he heard a strange grinding noise that struck a cold chill to his very heart.
Bandy-legs was in front, and really setting the pace, and as everybody in Carson knew full well, he was the poorest pacemaker possible, on account of his exceedingly short and rather bent legs. This caused them to be held back more or less, though when it came down to actual figuring nothing they could have done would have altered the complexion of conditions.
The grinding noise turned into a frightful rending that sounded in their ears as though all sorts of superstructures might be separating. All the while there was a swaying of the timbers of the stricken bridge, a sickening sensation such as might be experienced when out at sea and caught in a cross current.
Max realized that it was useless for them to think of reaching the safety of the shore which was too far away; even Shack Beggs had been unable to accomplish the end he had in view, though he was still staggering on.
"Grab something, and keep holding on for all you're worth!"
That was about all Max could say, for hardly had the last word left his lips when there came a final jerk that threw them all down; and only for having caught hold of the railing one or more of the boys might have been tumbled into the river.
At the same time one end of the bridge broke away, the entire structure swung around so that it started to point down stream; then the strain caused the other end to also free itself from its moorings; after which the whole fabric fell over with a mighty splash, while the crowds ashore stared in horror at the spectacle, knowing as they did that the boys had been engulfed with the falling timbers.
It was all a confused nightmare to the boys who went down with the bridge that the rising flood had finally carried away. They involuntarily gripped the railing tenaciously, because they had the last words of Max ringing in their ears; and no doubt it was this more than anything else that enabled them to come through the adventure with fair chances.
Max with his other hand had seized hold of Toby's arm, because they happened to be close together at the time. So it was that when he could catch his breath, after swallowing a gulp or two of muddy water, he called out:
"Are you all right, Toby?"
"Y-y-yep, s-s-seems so, Max!" he heard close to his ear in reply.
"What about the others? Steve, Bandy-legs, how is it with you?" continued Max, unable to see as yet, for his eyes were full of the spray that had dashed around them at the time the bridge carried them down.
Faint replies came to his ears, one from the left, and the other welling up in the opposite direction; but they cheered the heart of the leader greatly. It seemed almost like a miracle that all of them should have come through with so little damage. Looking back afterwards Max was of the opinion that much of this wonderful luck resulted from the fact that when the bridge swung around and allowed itself to be carried away it did not actually turn over.
They were being swept down-stream at a tremendous pace. Their strange craft rose and fell on the heaving flood with a sensation that might cause one to believe he had taken passage on the ocean itself, and was about to endure the discomforts of sea sickness.
Turning to look toward the shore Max realized for the first time how rapid was their passage; for when his eyes remained fixed on the water itself, which was making exactly the same speed as their craft, he seemed to be standing still.
"Max, oh! Max!" came in Steve's voice, a minute later.
"Hello! there, that you, Steve? Can't you make your way over here closer to us?" was the answer Max sent back; for now he could manage to glimpse the crouching figure from which the excited hail proceeded.
"Sure I can, easy as anything," Steve told him, and immediately proceeded to work along the railing, which fortunately remained above the water.
Bandy-legs had heard what was said, and from the other side he too came crawling along, moving like a crab backward, for he wished to keep his face toward the danger, since every dip of the whirling raft threatened to allow the waves to overwhelm him, as his position was not so secure as that of the others.
In this fashion, then, they gathered in a clump, gripping the railing with desperate zeal. Somehow or other the mere fact of getting together seemed to give each of the chums renewed courage.
"Ain't this a fierce deal, though?" Steve was saying, as drenched from head to foot he clung there, and looked at the swirling flood by which they found themselves surrounded, with the shore far away on either hand.
"B-b-beats anything I ever s-s-struck!" chattered Toby, whose teeth were apparently rattling like castanets, either from cold or excitement, possibly a little of both.
"We're in a tight hole, that's a fact," Max admitted, "but we ought to be thankful it's no worse than it is. One of us might have been swept loose, and drowned, or had a hard time getting around. We're all together, and it'll be queer if we can't figure out some way to get ashore, sooner or later."
"That's the ticket, Max; 'never give up the ship,' as Lawrence said long ago," was the way Steve backed the leader up.
"Huh!" grunted Bandy-legs, who had bumped his head, and because it felt sore he was not in the happiest mood possible; "that's just what we're wantin' to do, if you c'n call this turnin' twistin' raft a ship. Makes me dizzy the way she reels and cavorts; just like she might be trying one of them new fangled dance steps."
"Listen! what was that?" exclaimed Max, breaking in on Bandy-legs' complaint.
"What did you think you heard?" asked Steve, eagerly; "we're too far away from either shore right here to hope for anything, because you remember the banks of the Evergreen are low after passing our town, and the water's had a chance to spread itself. Whew! it must be half a mile across here, and then some."
"There it came again," said Max. "And seems to me it sounded like a half-drowned shout for help."
"What, away out here?" cried Steve; "who under the sun could be wanting us to give him a helping hand, d'ye think, Max?"
"I don't know, but at a time like this you can look for anything to happen. Perhaps there were other people carried away on the flood. Look around, and see if you can glimpse anything."
The water was not quite so riotous now, since it spread over a wider territory; and the boys had succeeded in getting their eyes clear; so that almost immediately Bandy-legs was heard to give a shout.
"I see him, fellers!" he announced, excitedly; "over yonder, and swimmin' to beat the band! He's tryin' to make the floating bridge we're on, but seems like the current keeps agrippin' him, and holdin' him back. Looks like he's mighty near played out in the bargain."
"Why, however could he have got there, and who is he, d'ye reckon, Max?" Steve inquired, turning as usual to the leader when a knotty problem was to be solved.
"I think I know," replied Max, without hesitation; "you seem to have forgotten that we weren't alone on the bridge when it fell."
"Oh! shucks! yes, you mean that Shack Beggs!" Bandy-legs suggested, and there was a vein of disappointment and indifference in his voice that Max did not like.
True, that same Shack Beggs had been one of the most aggressive of their foes in Carson. From away back he in company with a few other choice spirits of like mean disposition had never let an opportunity for annoying the chums pass. On numerous occasions he had planned miserable schemes whereby Max, or some of his best friends, would be seriously annoyed.
All the same that could be no excuse for their turning a deaf ear to the wild appeal for help which the wretched Shack was now sending forth. He was human like themselves, though built on different lines; and they could never hold their own respect if they refused to hold out a helping hand to an enemy in dire distress.
"We've justgotto try to get Shack up here with us, boys, if the chance comes our way," said Max, firmly.
"S'pose we have," muttered Bandy-legs, moodily; and his manner was as much as to say that in his opinion the young scoundrel struggling there in the water was only getting something he richly deserved; and that if it rested with him he would feel inclined to let Shack stay there until the extreme limit.
"But how can we do anything for him, Max?" asked Steve, who was not so bitter as Bandy-legs, and already began to feel a little compassion toward the wretched boy struggling so desperately in the agitated water, and nearly exhausted by his efforts.
"There's a small chance," said Max, who had been looking more closely than any of his chums. "You see this piece of the broken bridge keeps on turning around in the water all the while. Now we've got the west shore on our right hand, and pretty soon we'll have the east side that way. Well, perhaps we'll swing around next time far enough for us to stretch out and give Shack a helping hand."
"I believe you're right, Max," admitted Steve; "yes, she's swinging right along, and if he's wise he'll work in this way as much as he can. But, Max, if we do pass him by without being able to reach him, it's going to be hard on Shack, because he looks like he's nearly all in, and won't be on top when we come around again."
"Then we've just got to reach him, you see!" returned Max, with that glow in his eyes the others knew so well, for it generally meant success to follow.
The fragment of the broken bridge continued to move around as the swirl of the waters kept turning it. Max was watching eagerly, and making his calculations with as much earnestness as though it were one of his chums in peril instead of their most bitter enemy.
He believed there was a good chance for him to reach Shack, if he could manage in some way to stretch out from the end of the railing just beyond where Toby clung. And acting on this inspiration he hastily clambered past the other.
"What's doing, Max?" demanded Toby, immediately.
"If I can reach him at all it's got to be from the end of the raft here, the further point, don't you see?" Max replied, still pushing along, with Toby close at his heels, ready now to assist to the best of his ability.
So Max, on reaching the extreme tip of the uneasy raft, climbed out as far as he could go, and called back to Toby to grip him by the legs so that he might have both hands free to work with when the critical moment arrived.
It could not be long delayed, for as they swung slowly in the grip of the swirling current he could see the swimming Shack's head close by. Once the almost exhausted boy disappeared, and Max felt his heart give a great throb as he thought it was the very last he would ever see of Shack; but almost immediately afterwards the head came in sight again, for Shack was a stout fellow, and desperation had nerved him to accomplish wonders.
Presently Max gritted his teeth together for the effort he meant to put forth, and upon which so much depended.
"Swim this way as hard as you can, Shack!" he had shouted again and again, and the boy in the river was evidently bent on doing what he was told, though hardly able to sustain himself on account of complete exhaustion, added to a severe case of fright.
Then the crisis came. Max had figured nicely, and knew to a fraction of a second just when he must make his clutch for the swimmer. Shack saw what was coming, and as though ready to give up and sink if this effort to save him failed, he threw out one of his hands despairingly toward Max.
As he managed to clutch the swimmer's wrist Max braced himself, and gradually drew Shack toward the woodwork of the floating bridge, an inch as it were at a time, but constantly coming.
Presently he had him close enough for Steve, who with Bandy-legs was near by, to get a frenzied grip on the other arm of the exhausted boy; and then together they managed to help him aboard.
It was necessary that they change their position quickly, since their combined weight at one end of the wreckage of the bridge was causing it to sink in an ominous way.
"Move along there, Bandy-legs and Steve!" called Max; "or we'll be under water!"
Fortunately the other boys realized what was meant, and they hurried away, constantly clinging to the friendly railing which had proven so valuable all the while, in keeping them from being washed overboard.
Max helped Shack crawl along, for the boy was panting for breath, and almost choked with the vast quantities of water he had swallowed.
In this way they presently reached their old positions about the middle of the floating timbers. It was a wild picture that confronted them as they now took the time to look around them. The river was narrowing somewhat again and of course the current became considerably swifter on this account, so that the bridge raft rocked violently back and forth, sometimes even threatening them with a fresh disaster in the shape of a jam, and consequent overturn.
"My stars! what's the answer going to be to this thing?" Steve called out, after one of these exciting experiences, during which it was with considerable difficulty that the whole of them maintained their hold.
Max had seen to it that the tired Shack was fastened to the rail with a strap he chanced to have in his pocket at the time; only for that possibly the other might have lost his weakened grip, and been carried off.
"Oh! don't think of giving up yet, Steve," Max sang out cheerily; "the further we get downstream the more chances there are that we'll either be rescued by men in boats, or else find a way ourselves to get ashore. We've got so much to be thankful for that it seems as if we'd soon hit on a way out. Keep watching, and if some eddy in the current happens to throw us on a bar close to the shore, we'll hustle to reach land the best we know how, no matter where it is, or how far from home."
"T-t-that's what I s-s-say," stammered Toby; "all I w-w-want is to feel the g-g-good old g-g-ground under my f-f-feet again. I never thought it could be so n-nice as it seems right now."
"You never miss the water till the well runs dry!" chanted Bandy-legs, now getting over his fit of depression, and beginning to pluck up new courage and spirits.
"We are whooping it up at a mile a minute clip, ain't we, Max?" Steve asked, a short time later.
"Well, I'd hardly like to say that, Steve," answered the other; "but we're certainly making pretty swift time, twenty miles an hour, perhaps nearer thirty, I'd say. And that's going some, considering that we haven't any motor to push us along."
"And didn't they tell me it was about twenty miles down the valley that Asa French lived?" Steve went on to say, showing that even in the dreadful grip of the flood he had remembered that Bessie French was somewhere down below, and possibly also exposed to the perils that threatened all who lived along the banks of the furious Evergreen River.
Max too had given more than a few thoughts to this fact during the earlier part of that eventful day.
"The way we're going," he told Steve, "we ought to be down there before a great while; and let's hope we'll strike luck, and get a chance to go ashore."
"And also find the girls all right," added Steve, who had apparently quite forgotten how Bessie had recently cut him cruelly, while suffering from an unfortunate misunderstanding.
"But what ails Toby there; he seems to be excited over something?" Max went on to exclaim; for Toby was bending forward, and showed plain evidences of growing interest.
"Hey! fellers!" he now burst out with, "just looky there, will you? We're in for a f-f-fresh lot of t-t-trouble seems like. W-w-watch him p-p-pop up again, would you? Whew! but he's a b-b-bouncer, too, biggest I ever saw in my born days, and must be twenty feet long. Max, it's a s-s-sure enough s-s-sea serpent, ain't it, now?"