your strength!" cried
Andy to the injured one. The boy heard and obeyed.

In another moment Frank was near enough to clasp the almost exhausted
lad in his strong right arm. Andy saw this and there was no need for
the signal which his brother gave an instant later. Frank was on his
guard lest the youth he was rescuing might clasp him in a death grip.
But the latter evidently knew something about life saving, for he
placed his uninjured hand on his rescuer's shoulder and let Frank do as
he would.

Andy began to haul in on the rope. It was hard work to do this, and
manage the boat at the same time, but he did it somehow--how he never
could really tell afterward. But he had something of his brother's
grim determination and that was just what was needed in this emergency.

Slowly the rope came in, pulling the rescuer and the rescued one.
Without it that life could never have been saved, for the waves were
running high, and there was a current setting in toward the sharp,
black rocks.

Foot by foot Frank and his almost unconscious burden were pulled toward
the _Gull_.

"Can you keep up?" asked the elder Race lad.

"I--I guess--so," was the faint reply.

"We'll be there in a minute now. You'll soon be all right!"

The other did not answer. Valiantly Andy hauled in, until his
brother's head was right under the rail.

"I'll take him now," called Andy, as he let go of the tiller, and
reached for the lad Frank had saved. With a strong heave Andy got him
over the side. He slumped down into the cockpit, unconscious. A
moment later Frank clambered on board and quickly untied the rope from
his waist.

"Quick, Andy!" he cried. "Mind your helm! We're drifting on the rocks
again!"

"Look out for this lad. I'll steer clear!" yelled his brother in
reply, as he sprang back the tiller, after hoisting the sail.

Frank lifted the unconscious form in his arms, and moved the wounded
lad over to a pile of tarpaulins. With all his strength Andy forced
over the tiller, for the wind was strong on the sail, and the waves
were running high, their salty crests filling the atmosphere with
spume, while a fine spray drenched those aboard the _Gull_.

Suddenly there was a scraping sound, and the little craft shivered from
stem to stern.

"The rocks! The rocks! We're on the rocks!" cried Frank, as with
blanched face he looked up from where he was kneeling over the silent
form of the lad he had rescued from the sea and the