LITMIR.BIZ

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and our hero came up and seized the lad by the arm.

      "Buster! Buster!" he called out. "What's wrong? Can't you swim?"

      "Hel--help me!" gasped the fat youth. "I--I got a knock on the head. I'm so--so dizzy I do--don't know what I--I'm do--doing!"

      The current now tore Buster away from the rock, and he and Dave floated along on the bosom of the river for a distance of fifty yards. It was impossible to do much swimming in that madly-rushing element and Dave wisely steered for shore. He continued to support his friend, who seemed unable to do anything for himself.

      At length, when our hero was all but exhausted, his feet struck a sandbar. At once he stood up, finding himself in water that reached to his waist. He caught up Buster and placed the weakened lad over his shoulder. In a dim, uncertain way he saw the shore loom up in front of him, and struck out in that direction.

      It was a short but hard struggle. Twice Dave went down, once losing his hold on his chum. But he got up each time and went after Buster in a hurry. Then he made a final dash, came in contact with some bushes, and hauled himself and his burden to temporary safety.

      All was dark around the two boys, and the rain came down as pitilessly as ever. But for this they did not, just then, care. They had been close to death, and now they were safe, and that counted for everything.

      Poor Buster had received a severe bump on the forehead and had a swelling there of considerable size. But the stunning effect was passing, and he was able to sit up and peer around him.

      "Oh, what a crack I got, when I fell over!" he murmured, and then he added, gratefully: "It was a fine thing for you to jump in after me, Dave!"

      "Well, I couldn't stand there and see you drown, Buster," answered our hero. "I had to do something."

      "Where are the others?"

      "Up the stream--unless they went overboard, too."

      "Then I suppose we ought to walk that way."

      "We will--after we get our breath and you feel strong enough."

      "Maybe you can call to them?"

      "I'll try."

      Dave yelled at the top of his voice, not once but several times. Presently an answering hail arose from a distance, and then Ben came running up, followed by Jerry.

      "Dave! Buster! Are you safe?"

      "Yes," answered both.

      "Oh, I am so glad! We were afraid you were both drowned! How did it happen?"

      The two told their story, and then the others told how they had thrown out the rope and had seen Dave disappear in the darkness after Buster.

      "I would have jumped in, too, but I didn't see how I could do any good," went on Ben. "Jerry said we had better come ashore and look for you down here. So we did that. My! but it's a fearful flood, isn't it!"

      "Yes. I wish we knew where Phil was," and Dave heaved a deep sigh. Had their chum lost his life in that rapidly-rising river?

      "Ain't no ust to stay here--gitting wetter an' wetter," said the camp-worker, after a pause. "Besides, if that flood gits wuss it is bound to come up here. We better git further back--up the hill."

      "Is there any shelter around here? I mean on high ground?" asked Dave.

      "Yes, I know of a cabin up on the hill," answered Buster. "I don't know if I can find it in the rain and darkness, but I can try."

      He walked along, through the trees, until he reached a footpath running up from the shore. They followed the path for about a hundred yards, and then came in sight of a long, low, rambling cabin, the home in years gone by of some lumbermen. It was in a dilapidated state, with doors and windows gone, but it would provide a roof over their heads, and that was something.

      Entering, the lantern was hung on a nail, and they looked around them. There was a fireplace, with some dry sticks handy, and soon they had a fire started, which added much to the comfort of the surroundings. They hung up the majority of their wet garments and sat close to the blaze, drying themselves.

      "If I only knew where to look for Phil, I'd go after him," said Dave. "But to look for him in the darkness is like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack."

      "We'll have to go out first thing in the morning," returned Ben.

      "Yes, as soon as we can see," added Buster.

      The boys who had run away were anxious to learn what Dave had to say about affairs at Oakdale, and in a low voice, while the camp-worker was preparing hot coffee and something to eat, he related what had happened since their departure.

      "You made a big mistake to run away," he said, earnestly. "Just because you did that, many folks feel sure you must be guilty. You ought to go right back and face the music."

      "I guess you are right, Dave," answered Ben, shamefacedly. "But when Phil said 'run,' I didn't stop to think, but just got out."

      "And that is what I did, too," added the stout youth. "But I don't blame Phil any more than I blame myself," he added, hastily.

      "Nor do I," said Ben. "We made a big mistake. We should have stood our ground, like you and Roger did."

      "Well, you come back with me, and we'll face this to a finish," went on our hero. "But, of course, we've got to find Phil first."

      Only the camp-worker slept well that night. The boys were restless, and several times one or another got up, to go to the doorway and listen, thinking he had heard a call from Phil. But the calls were only imaginary, and morning dawned without a sign of the missing one.

      It was still raining, but not so hard as before, and by eight o'clock the clouds broke away and the sun commenced to shine. All had an early breakfast, from the stores brought along, and then the party hurried down to the river.

      That the dam above Camptown Falls had broken was plainly evident on all sides. During the night the river had risen seven or eight feet, bearing on its bosom many trees and bushes, with here and there the remains of camps that had been located on low ground. Moosetail Island had been swept from end to end, only the higher spots escaping the flood. The waters were now going down, the rush from the broken dam having spent itself.

      The boys gave scant heed to the destruction effected by the rain and the broken dam. All their thoughts were centered on Phil. What had become of their chum? Was he dead or alive?

      "I wonder if it wouldn't be best to get over to the island and look around?" suggested Dave. "Most likely he went there--thinking you would be at the cabin."

      "But how are we to get to the island?" asked Buster. He had no desire to fall into the turbulent stream again.

      "Oh, the water is going down rapidly, Buster. I think we can make it by noon."

      All walked up and down the river bank, looking in vain for some trace of the shipowner's son. Once they met some people from another camp and asked about Phil. But these folks shook their heads.

      "Didn't see a soul," said one of the men.

      Jerry Blutt had been looking the situation over carefully, and he said he thought they could get to the island by going up the river a distance.

      "Then the current will help us along, and we won't have to fight so hard," said the camp-worker. He did not like the idea of crossing the water, but did not wish to desert the boys.

      On the trip they carried the rope, with Jerry at the head and Dave at the rear. All took tight hold, so that if one slipped the others might pull him up.

      "Now, take it easy," cautioned the camp

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