with a short laugh he disappeared in the bushes.

Once more the detectives began to call for assistance, for they now
were sunk to their armpits in the sand.

Their voices sounded hoarse and smothered, and a despairing feeling was
creeping into their hearts, but they kept on shouting.

Presently Mason shouted at them from the bushes in angry tones:

"Are you going to shut up?"

"No!" roared Old King Brady.

"Then I'll pepper you!"

And bang! went his rifle, and a bullet whistled by their heads.

"Keep on yelling, Harry!" gasped the old detective.

"Help! Help!" shouted the boy, obediently.

Bang! went Mason's rifle again.

The ball grazed Harry's cheek, and stung like a bee.

Just then the shots and yells were heard by an old track-walker of the
railroad, and he rushed around the swamp shouting:

"All right! I'm coming!"

This unwelcome voice to Mason caused a look of alarm to flit over his
pale features, and, fearing arrest, he sped away.

The villain calculated that the detectives would be buried out of sight
long before assistance could reach them.

But the Bradys were cheered up wonderfully.

They kept on shouting, and the track-walker finally found them by being
guided by the tones of their voices.

Only their heads stuck above the water.

He stared at the pair in astonishment a moment, and cried:

"What in thunder are you doing in there?"

"Buried in quick-sand!" gasped Harry. "Help us--quick!"

The old fellow was startled and rushed in among the trees.

For a minute the detectives thought he deserted them. But he soon
reappeared with a sapling he had cut with his pocket-knife.

Standing on the embankment, he reached out the end to Old King Brady,
who lifted his hands above the water and grasped it.

"Pull!" gasped the detective.

The track-walker used all his strength, for the sand clung to the old
detective tenaciously, and dragged him up.

Around him the sand stirred up and the water bubbled and eddied as it
rushed into the opening left by his body.

After a fearful struggle Old King Brady was dragged free of the sand,
and drawn to the shore, panting and drenched.

Harry had sunk to his chin.

It was only by keeping his head thrown back that he kept his mouth
above water, and his two hands were raised.

Quick to act, and paying no heed to his own exhaustion, Old King Brady
grasped the pole and thrust it out to the boy.

Half gone, Harry took hold.

Between the old dete