ic called briskly. "At the word 'One!' bring the
body down to the heels in a sitting position. At the word 'Two'
straighten up and jump with both legs wide apart. At the word 'Three,'
jump and bring the legs close together. That's the one that shoots you
ahead."

This was repeated a dozen or more times and then Eric started the
youngsters doing both the arm and leg motions together. It was really
hard work, but when he let the urchins go at the end of about half an
hour, some of them could do it like clockwork.

[Illustration: BREAKING A DEATH-CLUTCH FROM BEHIND.

Courtesy of U.S. Volunteer Life-Saving Corps.]

[Illustration: BREAKING A DEATH-CLUTCH FROM THE FRONT.

Teaching life-saving at its best, the Commodore [the tallest man in
uniform] watching.

Courtesy of U.S. Volunteer Life-Saving Corps.]

"How much real swimming do you suppose the kids learn from that stuff?"
Willett asked.

"About one-third of them can swim right away," Eric answered. "It's
mostly in getting used to it. After all, if a kid gets hold of the right
stroke and practises enough so that he can do it automatically, he can't
do anything else but that when he gets into the water. The more scared
he is, the surer he is to do the thing he's got used to doing. What
sends people down in the water, is that they've got a wrong idea. They
wave their arms about, and as soon as your arms are out of the water, it
just alters the balance enough to put your mouth under."

"Seems to me I might learn something from that myself--" Willett was
beginning, when a long-continued whistle blast sounded from the station.
Eric was off like a shot. Quick as he was, however, he was only just in
time to scramble into the first boat.

"What is it?" the boy asked.

"Motor-boat on fire," answered the coxswain, "an explosion, most likely.
I guess the boat's done for, but the Eel saw the trouble the minute it
happened, so we oughtn't to have any trouble picking the people up. He
said there were girls, though, and probably they can't swim."

As the life-saving boat cut through the water, it passed three or four
swimmers who had started out from the beach on seeing the accident.
There was a great deal of excitement on shore, as, being a fine Sunday
morning, the beach was crowded.

"We'll be with you in a minute," shouted one of the intending rescuers
as the boat swept by.

As usual, the Eel was the first man overboard, and his queer snake-like
stroke showed t