Dave Porter and the Runaways Part 44

"If he was, wouldn't it be terrible?"

"Yes."

A cry came from behind them, and Buster appeared, followed by Jerry Blutt.

"Where is Phil?" demanded the stout youth.

"We don't know."

"The water is terribly high, and Jerry thinks we had better move to the sh.o.r.e. He says we might be drowned if that dam should break."

"Don't you think we ought to find Phil first?"

"Sure--if we can. Maybe he went back, when he found out how the water was rising," went on the stout youth, hopefully.

"I don't think he'd desert us," answered Ben. "That isn't Phil's style."

"You're right, Ben," said Dave.

All splashed around in the water for several minutes, but without making any discovery of importance. The river was now rising more rapidly than ever, and the camp-worker showed increased nervousness.

"Ain't no two ways about it--the dam's bust!" he cried, at last. "I'm goin' to git out, an' I advise all o' you to do the same. If you want me to carry anything to sh.o.r.e I'll do it."

"We can't carry any trunks in such a hurry," said Buster.

"Let us carry our suit-cases and bundles," said Ben.

With heavy hearts, Dave and the others returned to the cabin. The water in the cove had now risen so high that it swept the edge of the lean-to.

"Can we get to sh.o.r.e?" asked Buster. "We haven't any boat," he added, turning to Dave.

"We can if you'll hurry," replied Jerry Blutt. "Every minit lost makes it jest so much more dangerous."

In great haste Ben and Buster and the camp-worker gathered together such belongings as they could conveniently carry. The other things were placed in a trunk and hoisted by ropes into a big tree. Then a lantern was tied on a post in front of the cabin and to it was fastened a brief note, for Phil's benefit, stating they had gone to the sh.o.r.e.

"Oh, I hope he is safe!" murmured Dave, anxiously.

"So do I," added his chums.

Jerry Blutt led the way along the sh.o.r.e of the island and then out into the stream. They had the second camp lantern with them, one belonging to Jerry. He led the way from rock to rock, and they followed in single file, Dave bringing up the rear. Ever and anon our hero looked back for some sign of Phil, but without avail.

Once out in the river, all were certain that the dam above Camptown Falls had burst. The water ran with great rapidity and was filled with dirt and debris of various kinds. On the rocks that were low they had all they could do to keep their footing.

The most dangerous part of the river had yet to be pa.s.sed--a section close to the sh.o.r.e, where the water was deep and the rocks for fording few.

"Mind your footin' here!" sang out the camp-worker. "An' if you slip, look out thet you don't hurt yourselves!"

He was splashing along in water up to his knees, sometimes on the rocks and then again on a sandbar running in that direction. Then he had to make a turn, to avoid a deep portion of the stream, where the current was rapid.

Ben was behind the man and Buster was just ahead of Dave. As all struggled along, there came an extra heavy blast of wind, followed by a perfect deluge of rain.

"Oh!" screamed Buster, an instant later, and peering through the rain, Dave saw him suddenly throw up his arms and slip from a rock. There was a splash, and poor Buster disappeared from view.

"Buster is in the river!" yelled our hero, and then he leaped for the rock from which the stout youth had fallen. He looked down and saw an arm and a head come up.

"Help! hel----" came from the unfortunate one, and then the swift current caught him and turned him over, out of sight.

"Help!" yelled Dave, to attract the attention of those ahead. And then, as he saw Ben turn back, he slipped down on the rock and into the swirling river and struck out after Buster.

CHAPTER XXV

PERILS OF THE FLOOD

"Dave! Dave!" yelled Ben, as he saw our hero disappear into the swiftly-flowing river. "Look out, or you'll both be drowned!"

"What's the trouble?" yelled Jerry Blutt, as he turned back for the first time since leaving the island.

"Buster slipped in, and Dave went after him," answered Ben. "Oh, what shall we do?" he went on, despairingly.

"Here--we'll throw out the rope!" answered the camp-worker, and took from his shoulder a rope he carried.

In the meantime Dave had come up and was striking out with might and main for his chum. Our hero realized that Buster must be hurt, otherwise he would swim to save himself.

"Must have struck on his head, when he went over," he thought, and he was right, poor Buster had done just that and now lay half-unconscious as the current swept him further and further from his friends.

It was too dark to see much, and Dave had all he could do to keep in sight of the unfortunate one. But presently the stout youth's body struck against a rock and was held there, and our hero came up and seized the lad by the arm.

"Buster! Buster!" he called out. "What's wrong? Can't you swim?"

"Hel--help me!" gasped the fat youth. "I--I got a knock on the head.

I'm so--so dizzy I do--don't know what I--I'm do--doing!"

The current now tore Buster away from the rock, and he and Dave floated along on the bosom of the river for a distance of fifty yards.

It was impossible to do much swimming in that madly-rushing element and Dave wisely steered for sh.o.r.e. He continued to support his friend, who seemed unable to do anything for himself.

At length, when our hero was all but exhausted, his feet struck a sandbar. At once he stood up, finding himself in water that reached to his waist. He caught up Buster and placed the weakened lad over his shoulder. In a dim, uncertain way he saw the sh.o.r.e loom up in front of him, and struck out in that direction.

It was a short but hard struggle. Twice Dave went down, once losing his hold on his chum. But he got up each time and went after Buster in a hurry. Then he made a final dash, came in contact with some bushes, and hauled himself and his burden to temporary safety.

All was dark around the two boys, and the rain came down as pitilessly as ever. But for this they did not, just then, care. They had been close to death, and now they were safe, and that counted for everything.

Poor Buster had received a severe b.u.mp on the forehead and had a swelling there of considerable size. But the stunning effect was pa.s.sing, and he was able to sit up and peer around him.

"Oh, what a crack I got, when I fell over!" he murmured, and then he added, gratefully: "It was a fine thing for you to jump in after me, Dave!"