"I'm coming!" he repeated, as they swung around the wide sweeping
curve.

"Are you there, Tad?"

"Yes," was the scarcely distinguishable reply. "I've got to let go."

"You hold on. Bad-eye and I will be there in a minute and the
Professor is hurrying down along the bank with a rope."

"I'm freezing. I'm all numb, that's the trouble," answered Tad
weakly.

Ned knew that the plucky lad was well-nigh exhausted. The strain of
holding to the slippery rock in the face of the swift current was
one that would have taxed the strength of the strongest man, to say
nothing of the almost freezing cold water, which chilled the blood
and benumbed the senses.

"You've gone past me," cried Tad.

"I know it. I'm heading up," replied Ned Rector.

Ned had purposely driven his pony further down stream so that he
might the easier pick them up as he went by on the return trip.

"Are you all right down there?" called the Professor, who had
reached a point on the bank opposite to them.