Nerved afresh, Joel took a firm grasp on Clausen’s elbow and struck out manfully for shore.  It was hard going, and when a bare dozen long strokes had been made his burden so dragged him down that he was obliged to stop, and, floundering desperately to keep the white face above water, take a fresh store of breath into his aching lungs.  Then drawing the other boy to him so that his weight fell on his back, he brought one limp arm about his shoulder, and holding it there with his left hand started swimming once more.  A dozen more strokes were accomplished slowly, painfully, and then, as encouraging shouts came from shore, he felt the body above him stir into life, heard a low cry of terror in his ear, and then—­they were sinking together, Clausen and he, struggling there beneath the surface!  Clausen had his arm about Joel’s neck and was pulling him down—­down!  And just as his lungs seemed upon the point of bursting the grasp relaxed around his neck, the body began to sink and Joel to rise!

With a deafening noise as of rushing water in his ears, Joel reached, caught a handful of cloth, and struggled, half drowned himself, to the surface.  And then some one caught him by the chin—­and he knew no more until he awoke as from a bad dream to find himself lying in the sun on the narrow beach, while several faces looked down into his.

“Did you get him?” he asked weakly.

“Yep,” answered Outfield West, with something that sounded like a sob in his voice.  “He’s over there.  He’s all right.  Don’t get up,” he continued, as Joel tried to move.  “Stay where you are.  The fellows are bringing a boat, and we’ll take you both back in it.”

“All right,” answered Joel.  “But I guess I’ll just look around a bit.”  And he sat up.  At a little distance a group among which Joel recognized the broad back of Professor Gibbs were still working over Clausen.  But even as he looked Joel was delighted to see Clausen’s legs move and hear his weak voice speaking to the professor.  Then the boat was rowed in, the occupants panting with their hurried pull from the boathouse, and Joel clambered aboard, disdaining the proffered help of West and others, and Clausen was lifted to a seat in the bow.

On the way up river Joel told how it happened, West throwing in an eager word here and there, and Clausen in a low whisper explaining that the shell had struck on a sunken rock or snag when passing the island, and had begun to sink almost immediately.

“And Cloud?” asked Professor Gibbs.  There was no reply from either Joel or Clausen or-West.  Only one of the rowers answered coldly: 

“He’s safe.  I saw him on the path near the Society Building.  He was running toward Warren.”  A silence followed.  Then—­

“You’ve never learned to swim, Clausen?”

“No, sir.”

“But it is the rule that no boy is allowed on the river who can not swim.  How is that?”

“I—­I said I could, sir.”