“Look out!” cried Greg, as he shifted swiftly to steady the craft.

Just then Tom Reade turned, too.  His added weight sent the canoe careening.  There was a quick scramble to right the craft.

Flop!  The canoe’s port rail was under water.  She filled and sank, carrying a lot of excited high school boys down at the same time.

CHAPTER VII

“Danny grin” Is silent

Dick Prescott sank into the water not more than two or three feet.  Then his head showed above the surface of the river.  He struck out vigorously, looking about him.

“The canoe is done for!” he gasped.

Too-oot! too-oot! too-oot!  The steam launch was now speeding to the scene, its whistle screeching at a rate calculated to inform everyone in Gridley of another river disaster.

Up came Greg, then Dave.  Tom Reade’s head appeared down stream.  Harry Hazelton bobbed up not six feet from Dick.  Hazelton blew out a mouthful of water, then called: 

“Everyone up, Dick?”

“All but Dan.”

“What-----”

“I guess he’s all right.  Danny Grin is a good swimmer, you know.”

Half a dozen river craft were now heading their way, but the launch was the only power boat in sight.

Five members of Dick & Co. now got close together.

“We’ve got to go down after Danny Grin,” Reade declared.  “You fellows watch, and I’ll get as close to bottom as I can.”

Tom sank.  To the anxious boys he seemed to be gone for an age.  He came up alone.

“Did you see Dan?” Dick faltered.  “Not a glimpse of him,” returned Tom despairingly.

“See the canoe?”

“No.”

“Then you couldn’t have gone down in the right place,” Dick argued.

“I’ll try it, fellows!” exclaimed Darrin.  Down went Dave.  He soon came up, treading water.  As soon as he had blown out a mouthful of water he exclaimed: 

“I found Dan, but I couldn’t stay under long enough.  He went down with the canoe.  He’s lying in it now.”

“Look out, there!  We’ll pick you up,” called a voice from the launch, which now darted toward the boys.  A bell for half speed, then another for “stop” sounded, and the hull of the launch divided the frightened swimmers.

“Let me get aboard!” cried Dick, taking a few lusty over-hand strokes.

Willing hands hauled him into the launch at the bow, while girls’ cries and anxious questions filled the air.

“What’s the matter?”

“Who-----”

But Dick waited to answer no one.  Standing in the bow of the launch, he pointed his hands, then dived into the river.

While he was below the surface of the water the other canoeists swam alongside, helping themselves aboard.

“Oh, Dave!” cried Laura Bentley.  “What’s wrong?”