But the boy was splashing around making a brave attempt to keep up, and really doing so by the flat handed action with which he patted the water.

All embarrassment was now forgotten, as the scouts pulled up carefully to where the boy was just bobbing up and down, each movement adding to his peril.

"Climb in!" commanded Louise as they reached him. But he could scarcely put his hand to the oar, and the girls noticed his face was blue white.

"Oh, dear me!" cried Julia, "he is fainting or something," and nervous though she was, it was she who managed to get the first grip on the weakened boy.

It was no easy matter to get him into the boat; he was struggling and gasping for breath, and could make very little effort to help himself.

Finally, when all four girls had succeeded in keeping the boat balanced and dragging him into it, he gave one painful gasp, closed his eyes, and sank into unconsciousness.

CHAPTER VII

A DIFFICULT SITUATION

"WHERE shall we take him?" asked Grace in dismay.

"To the landing," replied Cleo, who still rowed with Margaret, while Julia clung to the stern of the boat in horror.

The boy looked so lifeless! Could he be dead?

As he lay there his delicate features seemed more than death-like; they seemed dead!

"Oh, mercy, do hurry!" pleaded Grace. "Let me help you pull," she asked, getting hold of Margaret's oar.

The small boat was now over crowded, and it was with difficulty the girls managed to give the boy sufficient room.

"Can't we call any one?" suggested Julia.

"Not any one in sight now," replied Louise. "We spent more time than we imagined. See, it is sun down."

"But what made him go like that?" Margaret whispered. "He had only been in the water a few minutes."

"Maybe the fright," said Cleo, noticing how high the lad's forehead was, and with what evident care he had been dressed. His glasses were still on, and the sunset made ghostly shadows on his face.

"I'm so glad he didn't topple over when I touched his boat," said Louise. "I should have thought it all my fault, if he had."

"Nonsense," replied Grace. "He was bound to fall overboard. He did not seem to know he was on the water. But isn't it too bad there is no one around to call? Every one is gone now."

They rowed as vigorously as their young arms could serve the strokes, and it took but a few moments to get out in a straight line for the pier.

As the girls came within hailing distance of the dock the captain there, seeing something was wrong, hurried to the steps to meet them.

"What's this? What happened?" he asked.

"He fell overboard. Oh, please hurry to revive him," pleaded Julia. "He looks so death-like."

Leaning over the boat the man picked the frail boy up in his arms and carried him up the pier as quickly as it was possible to do so.

"He moved. Look!" called Julia. "See, he is moving! Oh, I am so glad he is not dead."

"He could hardly have died," replied Louise, thus reassuring her nervous companions. "Still, I am glad to see he does move. Do you think we should follow them up there?"

"Oh, see the crowd gathering," exclaimed Margaret. "We can't do anything to help. Let's row out and bring in his boat. We would attract a lot of foolish attention up there."

This was considered the best plan, and without being noticed the girls pulled out again, and only watched the excitement from the distance.

Presently they heard an automobile start off from the pier and at this the crowd was seen to disperse.

"I guess they are taking him home in a car," said Cleo. "Dear me, do you suppose it was our fault that he fell overboard?"

"Why, no indeed," protested Margaret. "But we saved him. He might easily have been lost if we hadn't. Somehow he seemed half asleep. He might have really been sleeping. Boys often do that while out rowing."

They managed to catch the drifting boat, and Grace got in this to row.

As she did so she could not help observing a number of folded slips of yellow paper that lay tossed aside, in the bottom of the boat. But Grace had no thought of scrutinizing them. Somehow such an act would seem like spying.

Briskly both boats were now rowed back to the landing. No one was near, and when the scouts turned in their oars and paid for their boat, only a boy was at the stand.

"Was he hurt?" asked Cleo eagerly.

"Oh no, just scared. He's all right," replied the boy handing out some change.

"Who is he?" asked Grace frankly.

"Oh, a chap that lives at the Point--don't know his name. He's awful quiet and queer--just reads his eyes out--no wonder he wears goggles,"

finished the clerk, turning to pop a soda for a waiting customer.

The girls breathed easier. Somehow they were each conscious of a dread, and the boy's report had dispelled it as if by magic.

"Oh, say!" he called after them as they were moving away. "Are you the girls who rescued him? Well, he especially warned me to get your names?"

This was in question.

"But we shouldn't like to have him bother thanking us," returned Cleo, as spokesman. "We only did a scout duty."

"Oh yes, that's so. You're scouts. Aren't you? I'm a scout too, but we haven't any girls' troop around here. Wish you would start one."

"We may," assented Margaret. "But did you talk to the boy after he revived? Was he perfectly all right?" she questioned pointedly.

"Guess so, but he's a queer chap. Can't tell whether he's all right or all wrong, he's such a stick. Excuse me, here's where I sell a real order," and he hurried over to an old lady who was vainly trying to shut an obstinate parasol.

Again the girls turned away, and the clerk had not fulfilled his promise to get their names; neither had they obtained the name of the stricken boy.

"But I feel a lot better," admitted Cleo. "Somehow, it isn't nice to see a boy as still as he was."

"I should say not," added Grace. "And I couldn't help thinking of Benny.

I've never seen him still in his life, but I don't ever want to see him as quiet as that. And say, girls--" and she drew as many of them to her as her arms would reach, "the bottom of that boat was full of _yellow_ paper rolls!"