pop up full fifty feet downstream. It was the boat--but no Tod.

"Did you see it!" cried Jerry excitedly. "Didn't it look like
something blackish in the bottom of the boat?"

"She's full of water, that's all. Tod's down there under the fall.
He's drowned, I tell you! What shall we do? What shall we do!"
Excitable Dave was fast losing his head.

"Come on!" shouted Jerry, aroused by the helplessness of his
companion. "We've got to get to the mill and have them turn the
water through the race. Then we've got to get a boat out there--
quick!"

But he had not waited for Dave. Across the river just below the dam
was a house. If there was a telephone there--Jerry knew there was
one at the mill--something might yet be done in time. There was of
course no way of reaching the mill itself across that raging
torrent. There _was_ a telephone at the house, but it seemed hours
after Jerry reached it before he finally got a gruff "Hello" from
the mill manager, Mr. Aikens. But, fortunately, Aikens was not slow
to grasp the situation. In the midst of his explanations Jerry
realized that there was no one at the other end of the wire.

Out of the house he dashed and down to where in his wild race he had
seen a boat moored below the dam. The oars were still in place.
Barely waiting for the panting Dave to tumble in, he pushed off,
exultingly noting as he strained at the oars that already the volume
of water pouring over the falls had lessened. Before he reached the
main channel it had dwindled to a bare trickle.