A Young Inventor's Pluck Part 17

JACK'S DANGEROUS POSITION

Meanwhile how had Jack fared?

His last cry for help had been cut short by his plunge into the river.

With his hands still bound tightly behind him, he felt himself sink many feet, and then a few seconds later he regained the surface, and shook the water from his face. He found that the swiftly flowing tide had carried him several rods from the old mill, and well out toward mid-stream.

"I'm surely lost!" he said to himself with a shudder. "The falls are not more than a quarter of a mile below, and when I reach there----"

A shiver finished the sentence. In time past he had heard of several persons being carried over, and not one had lived to tell the story.

What hope was there then for him?

He remembered that half way to the falls the stream narrowed considerably where the tide rushed with a roar that was deafening, and there were several huge rocks. Perhaps, if he could gain one of these, when morning came he might devise some means of escape.

He tried his best to slip off the cord from his wrists, which was the same cord that had been fastened to his feet, and which now dragged a considerable distance behind him. But the hemp was water soaked, and cut into his flesh until it bled.

On and on he was carried. It seemed that every instant the speed increased. It was useless to cry out--no one was near, even if indeed, his voice should reach the sh.o.r.e. His mind was filled with countless anxious thoughts. What would his friends think of his absence? What would Mont say? What would Deb do if he was lost?

Thinking of his dear sister was more painful than aught else, and he uttered a sincere prayer that his life might be spared, for her sake, if not for his own.

Presently, through the gloom came the noise of the water as it washed over and around the rocks below.

He lifted his head as high as possible, and strained his eyes to get a view of the situation, but water and foam were alone in sight.

Nearer and nearer he was now drawing. The water bubbled all around.

Then like a flash a black object loomed to the right.

He struggled with all his power to gain it. Kicking and plunging, his side struck a rock.

He tried to grasp it, but it slipped. Another and still another pa.s.sed.

The water surged on all sides.

Suddenly his feet touched bottom. He threw himself with all his force against the current.

"Now or never!" were his thoughts. "For home and Deb!"

He flung his body to one side where a sharp rock stuck out of the water but a few inches, and, half turning, he threw his arm partly over it.

His feet were swept from under him, and as the cord upon his wrists still refused to part, his shoulder was nearly dislocated by the strain that was thus brought to bear.

Beside the sharp rock was another, and drawing a long breath, he gradually worked his way until he lay flat upon its surface.

This new resting place was not more than seven feet in length by three in width, yet to Jack it seemed a perfect island, so much more preferable was it to the cold water of the stream.

The young machinist lay quiet for a long time.

He was utterly exhausted, and it was no easy task to recover the wind that had been knocked out of him.

After a while, he turned over and sat up. He was afraid to try standing, fearful of losing his footing.

In the semi-darkness he calculated that the rocks leading to either sh.o.r.e were fully fifteen or twenty feet away--a distance which, in such a place as this, was as bad as a mile, so far as reaching them was concerned.

"If it was only a little lighter I might throw out the rope and catch fast somewhere," he said to himself. "As it is, I suppose I'll have to wait till morning."

But waiting was far from agreeable. Had he been sure of eventually escaping, it would have been different, but the doubt of this rendered his mind extremely uneasy.

Nearly an hour pa.s.sed. It grew darker, and one by one the stars came out.

Ceaselessly the water tumbled and roared, as if it knew not the meaning of rest.

As we know, he had had but little sleep the night before, and now he was f.a.gged out. Several times his eyes closed and his head nodded, but he always came to his senses.

"It will never do to go to sleep here?" he exclaimed. "Guess I'll try shouting. It will keep me awake, if nothing else."

He used his lungs to their full capacity, yet his voice was no stronger than the bleating of a lamb in a hurricane.

"No one will ever hear me," was his dismal comment, and then he stopped.

Another hour slowly pa.s.sed.

To Jack it seemed like an age. He was getting benumbed by the cold water, and his limbs were stiff and sore. How long would it last? How long could it last?

Another hour!

It must surely be morning soon--he had been there certainly a full night already. Why didn't it grow light?

His eyes closed for a moment--more from exhaustion than sleep--and then they closed again.

Why, what was this?

Here he was safe at home! There was the supper table waiting, and Deb, in her neat, white ap.r.o.n, pouring out the tea! Now they sat down together and began to eat, when, hold up--there was a fire somewhere.

Was it in their home? Yes, it must be for the fireman was at the window with a hose--and it was Mr. Gray! The water struck Jack in the ear.

"Help! help! I----"

The young machinist awoke in horror. He had slipped from the rock, and was again being madly whirled down the stream!

Oh! the agony of that moment! Why had he allowed himself to fall asleep?

Nothing but certain death now stared him in the face!

In the dim dawn he looked ahead and saw the line of white that marked the last of the breakwater above the awful descent.

"I'm gone, sure!" he sighed. "Good-by to home and Deb!"

On he swept with ever-increasing speed. The lofty brink was only a hundred feet away--now it was seventy-five--now fifty!

With a terrible cry he flung himself back, as if to ward off that which was inevitable.