At that point Mr. Hatfield and Midge's father took a hand, introducing various games. The fun revived. However, everyone appeared relieved when the gathering began to break up at nine-thirty.

Mr. Manheim took two boatloads of Cubs and their parents to sh.o.r.e and returned for the third. Meanwhile, Jabowski had made one trip in the much slower raft.

"One more trip will wind it up," the island owner estimated, counting the Cubs who were to remain overnight at their camp. "I can take five, and the others all can get on the raft."

"Seven on the raft?" Mr. Hatfield interposed in disapproval. "Isn't that loading it rather heavily?"

"Not at all," Mr. Manheim returned, annoyed to have his judgment questioned. "The raft was built to carry a much heavier load."

"It seems st.u.r.dy enough, but there are no rails-"

"Jabowski will keep his eye on the boys."

Dismissing the matter, the island owner filled his speedboat to capacity and pulled away. Following orders, Jabowski herded the remaining Cubs aboard the raft.

When all were seated who were to leave the island, not a spare inch of s.p.a.ce remained.

Mr. Hatfield, who had been watching the loading with troubled gaze, stepped to the edge of the dock to speak to Jabowski.

"Why not make another trip?" he suggested. "The raft is overloaded."

"Mr. Manheim's orders were to take 'em all in one load," Jabowski said stubbornly. "I do as he tells me."

He started the motor and the raft slowly pulled away.

"Hey, wait!" Ross Langdon shouted. "I forgot my cap!"

Before anyone could stop him, he leaped to his feet. The over-weighted raft tilted sharply to the left.

"Sit down!" Jabowski yelled.

The warning came much too late. Other Cubs, their feet under water, were scrambling frantically for safety.

As the raft became even more off-balance, it tilted to a sharper angle, sliding all the Cubs except one into the river. Jabowski, clinging to the motor box, managed to hold on.

The water into which the Cubs had fallen was well over their heads.

Weighted down by shoes and clothing, they churned the surface in a frantic effort to keep up.

Ross, an expert swimmer, seized one of the Cubs and towed him ash.o.r.e.

Mr. Hatfield and Midge's father both plunged in to a.s.sist others to safety.

Two of the Cubs grasped the side of the raft and were pulled aboard by the frightened Jabowski.

Meanwhile, on sh.o.r.e, Dan had kicked off his shoes, ready to help.

"Where's Tim Tyler?" he shouted.

Tim was the youngest and smallest member of Den 1. Also, as all the boys knew, he was the only Cub who had never learned to swim a stroke.

In the darkness there now was no glimpse of the boy. He was neither on the raft nor anywhere visible in the water.

"He was aboard when the raft upset," Dan cried. "I saw him just before it went over. Maybe he's pinned underneath!"

Without waiting for others to act, the boy made a clean dive from the end of the dock. With the speed of a bullet he shot beneath the raft.

To his confusion, it was not flat underneath as he had expected. Instead, the craft was laced with four large metal tanks.

At the moment, Dan had no time to think of their significance or to wonder why they were there. Holding his breath, he groped about in the dark waters of the cool river.

He felt rather than saw the body which was wedged between the tanks in the very centermost portion of the raft.

Seizing Tim by an arm, Dan attempted to swim out with him. His head and shoulders came hard against the metal tanks and he could make no progress.

Dan's breath now was growing short and he knew he must work fast.

Treading water, he used both arms to try to free the imprisoned Cub.

At first he could not move the boy an inch. Then Dan's hand encountered a jagged nail, and he realized that Tim's clothing had speared on it.

With a hard jerk, he ripped the garment free. Then, with the limp form of the boy on his left hip, he swam and pulled them both toward the outer edge of the raft.

His heart began to pound and his lungs to feel as if they would explode.

Could he keep going? He _had_ to, Dan told himself. To abandon Tim never entered his thoughts. Only a stroke or two more-

When it seemed to Dan that he had reached the very end, a strong hand grasped his clothing. Both he and Tim, to whom he clung desperately, were hauled up onto the raft.

"Good work, Dan!" Mr. Hatfield's praise rang in his ears. "You saved Tim."

All the Cubs were taken ash.o.r.e to dry out by the fire. Mr. Holloway and the Cub leader stretched Tim out on the dock, wrapping him in blankets.

It was unnecessary to apply artificial respiration, for he soon opened his eyes and began to breathe normally.

"We'll look after Tim," Mr. Hatfield advised Dan as the shivering boy hovered near. "Hike to the tent and change your clothes."

"Mr. Hatfield, there's something I want to tell you-"

"Later, Dan."

Brad threw a blanket over the boy's shoulders and led him away.

"The Den is proud of you, Dan," he declared as he waited while the other changed into dry clothing. "You earned yourself a medal tonight."

"I didn't do anything," Dan replied. "Or rather, anyone would have done the same."

"You thought and acted in a split-second. That was what counted, Dan. If Mr. Manheim hadn't been so bull-headed about taking too many Cubs on the raft, the accident wouldn't have occurred."

"It was badly balanced from the start, Brad. I can't understand those tanks-"

"What tanks, Dan?"