“Explain.  I don’t understand,” urged Professor Zepplin.

“It is my plan to tie the lassoes together.  We have six of them.  That will make nearly two hundred feet.  One or two of you can take hold of the free end of the rope, the other end being about my waist.  In case I should be carried away from the shore, why all you have to do will be to haul me back.  Isn’t that a simple proposition?”

“It’s a crazy one,” nodded the Professor.

“Come to think it over, I believe it could be done,” reflected Nance.  “If I could swim at all I’d do it myself, but I’d drown inside of thirty seconds after I stepped a foot in the water.  Why, I nearly drown every time I wash for breakfast.”

Stacy was about to make a remark, but checked himself.  It was evidently not a seemly remark.  It must have been more than ordinarily flippant to have caused Chunky to restrain himself.

“I move we let Tad try it, Professor,” proposed Ned.

“I don’t approve of it at all.  No, sir, I most emphatically do not.”

“But surely, Professor, there can be no danger in it at all.  It is very simple,” urged young Butler.

Tad knew better.  It was not a simple thing to do.  It was distinctly a perilous, if not a foolhardy feat.  Nance knew this, too, but he had grown to feel a great confidence in Tad Butler.  He believed that if anyone could brave those swirling waters and come out alive, that one was Tad Butler.  But it was a desperate chance.  Still, with the rope tied around the lad’s waist, it was as the boy had said, they could haul him back quickly.

“Professor, I am in favor of letting him try it if he is a good swimmer,” announced the guide.

“Pshaw, you couldn’t drown Tad,” declared Ned.

“No, you couldn’t drown Tad,” echoed Chunky.  “Not any more than you could drown me.”

“Perhaps you would like to try it yourself?” grinned Nance.

“Yes, I can hardly hold myself.  I am afraid every minute that I’ll jump right into that raging flood there and strike out for the other side of the horseshoe,” returned Stacy, striking a diving attitude.

They laughed, but as quickly sobered.  Tad was already at work making firm splices in the two ropes that he held in his hand.

“Pass over your ropes, boys.  We have no time to lose.  The river is getting higher every minute now, and there’s no telling what condition it will be in an hour from now.”

The others passed over their ropes, some willingly enough, others with reluctance.  Tad spliced them together, tested each knot with all his strength and nodded his approval.

“I guess they will hold now,” he said, stripping off his coat after having thrown his hat aside and tossed off his cartridge belt and revolver.

“Walt, you take care of those things for me, please, and in case I get you folks out, fetch them up with you.”