Chapter 8 DID I SAVE HIM

When Dick Boden ran from the Fort and raised the alarm, he waited till his companions made their appearance; then, expecting they would all follow, he dashed off across the stone bridge. In his opinion, as he afterwards said, the worst that could happen for any one was a few hours' imprisonment in the old tower.

No one looked behind till reaching the shore, and then Tom Moon noticed that Braithwaite had stopped.

"Unless he hurries up, he'll get a jolly good wetting," said Dick, and they all began to shout.

"What a muff the fellow is!" said Moon. "Why doesn't he come? There's Jimmy Hartland just come out; he'll bustle him along."

"Dick," suddenly said one of the other boys in a grave tone, "he'll be drowned, I'm sure." His name was Spencer, and his father being a fisherman, he was well acquainted with the bay.

"Look!" he continued; "just look how high the water is getting! Jim will have to stay in the Fort."

As soon as Dick grasped the danger he sent a boy for help, and with Moon and Spencer ran down the beach.

"Here you are!" he cried, stopping at the boat nearest the incoming tide. "Unfasten her, Spencer.-Light the lantern, Tommy; here's a match. Are the oars there? Right you are!-Now-one, two, three, and all together, boys. Push her along! Now she's riding! In with you!-Give me an oar, Spencer.-You steer, Tommy-straight for Braithwaite."

"No, no," said Spencer hastily; "steer for that rock with the whitewashed top; then swing her round, and we'll pick him up coming back. We should never reach there in a straight course."

"All right!" exclaimed Dick cheerfully; "you boss the show. I don't mind as long as he's saved."

The boys bent their backs with a will: but the boat was heavy, the tide strong, and, as the Angel admitted, the rowing was hardly up to regatta mark. Still they were making progress when Moon called out, "There's Hartland going for him!-Well done, Jim!-Pull, you fellows!"

They tugged away desperately, but suddenly a piercing shriek startled them, and they knew that Braithwaite was fighting for life in the water.

Dick groaned, and pulled till it seemed as if his arms must come out.

"They'll both be lost!" he cried, knowing well that Jim would not hesitate a second in jumping to the rescue.

"There are some men on the shore," said Spencer; "they're getting out another boat."

"Too late!" muttered Dick gloomily. "Listen! There's Jim calling for help. Shout back. Now again, and all together."

The sweat poured down their faces, their muscles ached terribly, their throats were dry and parched, but they pulled on without a second's pause.

Again the cry for help rang out, this time much nearer, and soon they discerned a dark object in the water.

"Keep her steady!" roared Spencer. "Grab the other fellow, Dick!" And he himself caught Jim, and pulled him up so that he partly rested on the gunwale.

The whole manoeuvre was full of danger, but they were taking risks that night. By degrees, Spencer, who was fortunately strong as a horse, managed to pull Jim into the boat, and then helped to drag in Braithwaite, who displayed no sign of life.

"Let's put our coats over them, and that dry sail in the corner," said Dick. "Now, a pull for the shore. Keep her head straight, Tommy!"

News of the desperate situation of the boys had spread rapidly. Numbers of people had assembled on the shore, and cheer after cheer greeted the plucky rescuers as they beached and made fast the boat.

Two or three doctors were among the spectators. Some thoughtful soul had hastily made and sent down a can of hot coffee, while a man from the York Hotel arrived soon afterwards with warm blankets.

"Are they alive?" was the question on the lips of every one, as the doctors ran down to the boat, and a few policemen kept the crowd back.

Dick had already unfastened his friend's braces, and taken off his shirt, in order to expose his chest fully, while Spencer and Tom Moon were doing the same for Braithwaite.

"That's right, my boy," said one of the doctors to Dick. "Now, help me to turn him face downwards. Place one of his arms under the forehead, so, and hold it there while I wipe his mouth."

Dick was half wild with grief; but he did as he was told, though feeling sure in his mind that Jim was dead.

Assisted by another man, the doctor presently turned the body gently on one side, and then back again sharply, Dick supporting the head meanwhile. This movement was repeated many times, and at last the doctor exclaimed with a look of satisfaction, "We've got him; he's beginning to breathe. Slip the trousers off and cover him with a blanket. Now rub his limbs upward, under the blanket. You've saved him, my boy!"

"Is he alive, sir?" asked Dick, hardly able to believe the truth.

"Alive? Yes; he'll be as right as ninepence in a few hours."

As soon as Jim began to breathe he was carried to a hotel close by, where the landlady busied herself to procure hot flannels and hot water-bottles. Then she brought a bottle of old wine, and gave Jim some in a teaspoon, under the doctor's orders.

"Now," said that gentleman, "there's nothing but a few hours' sleep required. Let this youngster stay in the room. I'm going to see how the other poor boy's getting on."

So Dick sat beside the bed on which his friend lay, and wondered what was happening on the beach. After a time Jim stirred uneasily, opened his eyes, and recognized his chum.

"Dick!" he whispered faintly.

"Don't try to talk, old chap. It's all right. Go to sleep."

There was an uneasy look in Jim's eyes, and his forehead puckered up as if he were in thought. Then he said in a whisper, "Did I save him?"

Jim had asked a question difficult to answer, but his chum thought it best to soothe him.

"Yes," said he; "you kept him afloat till the boat came up. Now go to sleep-there's a good chap-or I shan't be allowed to stay with you."

Jim's lips moved as if in speech, but no words passed them, and in a short time he was fast asleep, with a peaceful smile on his face.

Meantime, news of the accident had reached Mrs. Hartland, who, getting a neighbour to stay with Susie, hurried to the hotel, where she was permitted to go into the boy's room to satisfy herself that he was really alive.

"I'm going to stay with him," said Dick, following her to the door, "and the doctor says there's no need at all to worry. Does Susie know?"

"Yes; I couldn't keep it from her. How did it happen?"

Dick told the story briefly, and then, promising to bring Jim home in the morning, he returned to the room. An hour later the doctor came to have another look at his patient, who was still sleeping nicely.

"Hum!" said he, rubbing his hands, "one's better than none, though it is a pity the other slipped past us."

"Is Braithwaite dead, sir?" asked Dick, sinking his voice to a whisper lest Jim should hear him.

"Yes, my boy, I'm sorry to say he is. We've tried hard to restore breathing, but it's no good. How came he to get into the water?"

Dick told him.

"And this lad jumped in to save him? Well, that was very plucky, but none of you had any business there at all."

"No, sir," replied Dick humbly, "but I only thought to have a joke."

"Well, well, I don't suppose you're more to blame than the rest!" exclaimed the doctor; and then, after making a note of Jim's name and address, he said he would call at his house in a day or two.

That was a wretched night for Dick. The kind-hearted landlady brought him in a good supper, and a servant made him a comfortable bed on the floor, but he could not sleep.

"Poor old Dandy!" he murmured again and again, "but for me he would be alive now."

Early in the morning Jim wakened, and in an instant Dick was by his side.

"Feel better, old boy?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm all right. Where's Braithwaite? What's the matter? Why are you looking like that? Is he-dead?"

"Yes," said Dick, and no one would have known it was the Angel speaking.

"Then I've killed him! He only went because I called him a coward."

"'Twas as much my fault as yours," said Dick. "I started it. Poor old Dandy!"

Jim did not speak again; and even when, later in the day, he went home, his mother could hardly get a word from him; but at the inquest he told the story without hiding anything, and took all the blame on his own shoulders.

"Braithwaite wouldn't have gone," he said; "only I laughed at him for being afraid."

The whole incident was so plain that the jury at once brought in a verdict of "accidental death," adding a rider that, in their opinion, the Old Fort and the bridge should be destroyed.

The event, of course, caused a tremendous sensation in the town. Many people spoke harshly of Jim, but all admired his courage both in attempting to save the drowning boy and in frankly telling the truth afterwards.

"The lad has grit," remarked the doctor who had brought him round. "I hope he won't take it too much to heart."

He was a Scotsman named Stewart, a pleasant, cheery fellow, well known in Beauleigh both for his ability and kindliness.

"I've a good mind to call and have a look at him," said he. "What's his address?" pulling out his notebook. "Hum! Brook Street! Not very much burdened with this world's goods, I expect."

That same evening Mrs. Hartland was startled by a loud rat-tat, and going to the door, found the doctor there.

"Good-evening!" said he briskly; "are you Mrs. Hartland? I am the doctor who attended your boy, and I've come to have a look at him. No, no; don't make a fuss. I'll come straight through, if you don't mind." And closing the door, he followed Mrs. Hartland into the sitting-room.

"Well, young shaver," said he, patting Jim on the back, "how do you feel now?-better? That was a very plucky thing you did.-You ought to be proud of him, ma'am; he deserves the Society's medal. And who is this young lady?" stooping to touch Susie's hair. "Can't get up? Dear me! that is sad. Any one attending her?"

"Not now, sir. You see, the doctors-"

"Quite so; I understand. Now, suppose I have a look at her in the morning-eh? I've had some experience in these cases. I shan't call professionally-just as a friend of this young gentleman's, you know."

"O sir, how can I thank you?" exclaimed Mrs. Hartland gratefully.

"No need of thanks to any one yet, ma'am; but if I can do the dear child any good, she can thank her brother, because, but for him, I should not be here to-night. Eh, Pussy?" And he pulled Susie's ear playfully.

"Jim tried to save the other boy," said Susie with tears in her eyes.

"Yes, I know, and nearly lost his own life. He was very silly in the first place, but turned out a real hero after all.-Now, Jim, brighten up and look cheerful. You've had a hard lesson; show the world you've learned something from it. What's done can't be undone, and moping won't make things a bit better. Well, I must go.-Good-night, Pussy. Shall we say ten o'clock in the morning? That will suit me nicely." And with a bright smile all round, and a last word of encouragement to Jim, he took his leave.

"O mother," cried Susie, "isn't he a nice man?"

"He is, my dear, and wonderfully clever too, I've heard," replied Mrs. Hartland. "Oh, what a good thing it will be if he can make you stronger!"

They talked about it till bedtime, but Jim was very quiet. He was still thinking of the boy who had gone so suddenly to his death.