The Shagganappi | Page 9

as far as making life in the East bearable, as far as being received on an equality with the other boys went. It was a tremendous debt that he owed this handsome boy who was his host for the summer. But before the holiday was ended Shag paid that debt with all his heart, and almost with his life.
It happened one day from the simple cause that the camp had run short of bread, and one of the youngsters from the Pacific coast, Freddy by name, had volunteered to paddle over to the mainland for it. The sailboat being laid up for repairs, Freddy ran out the light little Peterborough, and was just getting away from the island when Hal descried him and shouted to him to wait. "Think I'd let you go alone in that canoe, kiddie?" he asked. "There's too much wind to-day; look at her sweep down the north channel. Why, she'd turn you round and round like 'Willie waltzing.' Hold on, I'm coming with you." With that he sprang into the canoe and they were away.
It was rather a cold wind for early September, and the two boys were glad to paddle hard to keep their circulation up. Both were in shirt sleeves and both somewhat chilled; but by the time they had reached the mainland they were all tingling with rioting blood and with appetites ready to attack their cargo of bread, even minus the butter. They started back in good shape, although Hal's weather eye observed that the wind was picking up and that they would have to work for it to make the island in good time for supper. All went well for some distance, although sometimes the waves galloped up and slipped over the bow where Freddy knelt, plying his paddle in good form. Out in mid-stream, with both wind and current against him, Hal had considerable difficulty in steering; his strong, muscular arms pulled little Freddy's stroke around, and he bent to the work of "digging potatoes" with a vengeance. The bow with its light boyish ballast would rise and rise again, slapping down on the surface or taking the waves like a cork. Then came a line of combers, one on top of another. The taut little Peterborough rode the first like a shell, the second she dipped, the third she shipped a whole bucketful of water. As it poured over the deck, little Freddy flung himself backward to escape the drenching, the canoe dipped, Freddy landed full weight on the leeward gunwale--and they were over. For the first instant, Hal was conscious of but one thing, that he was being struck through with the chill of the water on top of being in a heat of perspiration with battling the canoe through the waves. Then he came to the surface to see the canoe, turned turtle, floating bottom up three yards away. Then a limp mass of brown clothes and brown curls cannoned into him, and reaching out, he grasped Freddy.
"Don't get scared, kid," he gasped, spluttering the water out of his throat; "keep cool and don't clutch me too tight." He might as well have spoken to the winds, for little Freddy, chilled through and terror-stricken, was clinging to him like an octopus, impeding his arm and leg action, and almost choking the breath out of his lungs. "Oh, Hal, we're in mid-stream!" gulped the child; "we'll be drowned!"
"Not on your life, kiddie!" spluttered Hal. "I'll get that bally canoe. Only don't hold on around my neck, that's a good kiddie. There, that's better," as Freddy loosened his fingers from Hal's shirt collar, and the boy struck out with one arm around the child and the other working for all the grit and muscle there was in it. His magnificent stroke, helped by the wind and current, soon overhauled the canoe. By a supreme effort he clutched the immersed gunwale. With one arm around Freddy he could never hope to right the boat, but even bottom up she was a salvation. "Grip her, kiddie, grip her as I shove you up," he gasped, "and don't let go; straddle her and hang on! Promise me you will hang on,--promise me!" he cried.
"I'll promise," gulped the child. Then Hal's powerful arm flung itself upwards, his two hands "boosted," and Freddy landed on the upturned canoe, gripping it with all fours and coughing the water from his mouth.
Hal made an attempt to climb up, his fingers slipped; then two terrible little demons seemed to grasp the calves of his legs; their fingers ripped the muscles out and tied them into knots, knots that extended to his knees, his hips, his stomach; his fingers weakened with the agony of it--Hal Bennington knew he was going down with cramps.
Away off to the right