o the boat while Dalzell threw off the bowline, then boarded.

Like a flash both youngsters went at the lashings of the mainsail.

"There isn't a reef in," Dan discovered. "Going to take time for a close
reef, Dave?"

"There isn't time," Darrin muttered, with drops of cold perspiration on
his forehead as he toiled. "We'll have to go out under a full sail, Dan."

"Great Scott!" muttered Dalzell.

"We may be too late to save any one as it is. There! Jump to the halyard.
I've got the sheet."

Dan Dalzell began to hoist with a will. In an incredibly short time he
had the sail hoisted all the way up, while Darrin, stern and whitefaced,
crouched and braced himself by the tiller, gripping the sheet with his
left hand.

In a twinkling Darrin had the wind in his canvas. They had nearly a fair
wind as they bounded away from the float.

During these few instants of preparation neither Belle nor Laura had
spoken. Both girls realized the gravity of the situation, and they knew
that a word from them might distract the rescuers from the work in hand.

Knowing that he had the high, fast wind with him, Dave steered straight
for the last spot where he had seen the motor launch. Though the boat was
no longer visible, and the distance too great for seeing the heads of the
swimmers, if there were any, Darrin had taken his bearings by trees on
the further shore upstream.

At first, to keep the sailboat from capsizing, the young skipper at
the helm let the sheet well out. Then, when Dan hurriedly rejoined
him, Darrin passed the sheet over to his comrade as to one who would
know exactly what to do with it. Dan perched himself on the weather
gunwale, his weight there serving as ballast to keep the craft from
capsizing. Yet, even so, everything had to be done with the utmost
skill, for, with the mainsail up, the least fluke in handling the boat
would send her over.

"We've got to go fast and take all the chances," muttered Dave.

"Sure," nodded Midshipman Dan understandingly. "It would be no great
scare to us if we did heel over into the drink. It might mean a different
story, though, for those who are already sopping up the wet."

"Aren't they splendid fellows?" cried Laura.

"Yes," answered Belle, her eyes snapping and her face glowing. "Though I
won't claim that they're any finer than your own West Point boys."

That brought an added flush to the color in Laura Bentley's face, and her
eyes sparkled her gratitude, for Dick Pre