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"Faster, everybody!" Max shouted, as he heard a strange grinding noise that struck a cold chill to his very heart.
Bandy-legs was in front, and really setting the pace, and as everybody in Carson knew full well, he was the poorest pacemaker possible, on account of his exceedingly short and rather bent legs. This caused them to be held back more or less, though when it came down to actual figuring nothing they could have done would have altered the complexion of conditions.
The grinding noise turned into a frightful rending that sounded in their ears as though all sorts of superstructures might be separating.
All the while there was a swaying of the timbers of the stricken bridge, a sickening sensation such as might be experienced when out at sea and caught in a cross current.
Max realized that it was useless for them to think of reaching the safety of the sh.o.r.e which was too far away; even Shack Beggs had been unable to accomplish the end he had in view, though he was still staggering on.
"Grab something, and keep holding on for all you're worth!"
That was about all Max could say, for hardly had the last word left his lips when there came a final jerk that threw them all down; and only for having caught hold of the railing one or more of the boys might have been tumbled into the river.
At the same time one end of the bridge broke away, the entire structure swung around so that it started to point down stream; then the strain caused the other end to also free itself from its moorings; after which the whole fabric fell over with a mighty splash, while the crowds ash.o.r.e stared in horror at the spectacle, knowing as they did that the boys had been engulfed with the falling timbers.
CHAPTER VI
COMRADES IN DISTRESS
It was all a confused nightmare to the boys who went down with the bridge that the rising flood had finally carried away. They involuntarily gripped the railing tenaciously, because they had the last words of Max ringing in their ears; and no doubt it was this more than anything else that enabled them to come through the adventure with fair chances.
Max with his other hand had seized hold of Toby's arm, because they happened to be close together at the time. So it was that when he could catch his breath, after swallowing a gulp or two of muddy water, he called out:
"Are you all right, Toby?"
"Y-y-yep, s-s-seems so, Max!" he heard close to his ear in reply.
"What about the others? Steve, Bandy-legs, how is it with you?"
continued Max, unable to see as yet, for his eyes were full of the spray that had dashed around them at the time the bridge carried them down.
Faint replies came to his ears, one from the left, and the other welling up in the opposite direction; but they cheered the heart of the leader greatly. It seemed almost like a miracle that all of them should have come through with so little damage. Looking back afterwards Max was of the opinion that much of this wonderful luck resulted from the fact that when the bridge swung around and allowed itself to be carried away it did not actually turn over.
They were being swept down-stream at a tremendous pace. Their strange craft rose and fell on the heaving flood with a sensation that might cause one to believe he had taken pa.s.sage on the ocean itself, and was about to endure the discomforts of sea sickness.
Turning to look toward the sh.o.r.e Max realized for the first time how rapid was their pa.s.sage; for when his eyes remained fixed on the water itself, which was making exactly the same speed as their craft, he seemed to be standing still.
"Max, oh! Max!" came in Steve's voice, a minute later.
"h.e.l.lo! there, that you, Steve? Can't you make your way over here closer to us?" was the answer Max sent back; for now he could manage to glimpse the crouching figure from which the excited hail proceeded.
"Sure I can, easy as anything," Steve told him, and immediately proceeded to work along the railing, which fortunately remained above the water.
Bandy-legs had heard what was said, and from the other side he too came crawling along, moving like a crab backward, for he wished to keep his face toward the danger, since every dip of the whirling raft threatened to allow the waves to overwhelm him, as his position was not so secure as that of the others.
In this fas.h.i.+on, then, they gathered in a clump, gripping the railing with desperate zeal. Somehow or other the mere fact of getting together seemed to give each of the chums renewed courage.
"Ain't this a fierce deal, though?" Steve was saying, as drenched from head to foot he clung there, and looked at the swirling flood by which they found themselves surrounded, with the sh.o.r.e far away on either hand.
"B-b-beats anything I ever s-s-struck!" chattered Toby, whose teeth were apparently rattling like castanets, either from cold or excitement, possibly a little of both.
"We're in a tight hole, that's a fact," Max admitted, "but we ought to be thankful it's no worse than it is. One of us might have been swept loose, and drowned, or had a hard time getting around. We're all together, and it'll be queer if we can't figure out some way to get ash.o.r.e, sooner or later."
"That's the ticket, Max; 'never give up the s.h.i.+p,' as Lawrence said long ago," was the way Steve backed the leader up.
"Huh!" grunted Bandy-legs, who had b.u.mped his head, and because it felt sore he was not in the happiest mood possible; "that's just what we're wantin' to do, if you c'n call this turnin' twistin' raft a s.h.i.+p.
Makes me dizzy the way she reels and cavorts; just like she might be trying one of them new fangled dance steps."
"Listen! what was that?" exclaimed Max, breaking in on Bandy-legs'
complaint.
"What did you think you heard?" asked Steve, eagerly; "we're too far away from either sh.o.r.e right here to hope for anything, because you remember the banks of the Evergreen are low after pa.s.sing our town, and the water's had a chance to spread itself. Whew! it must be half a mile across here, and then some."
"There it came again," said Max. "And seems to me it sounded like a half-drowned shout for help."
"What, away out here?" cried Steve; "who under the sun could be wanting us to give him a helping hand, d'ye think, Max?"
"I don't know, but at a time like this you can look for anything to happen. Perhaps there were other people carried away on the flood.
Look around, and see if you can glimpse anything."
The water was not quite so riotous now, since it spread over a wider territory; and the boys had succeeded in getting their eyes clear; so that almost immediately Bandy-legs was heard to give a shout.
"I see him, fellers!" he announced, excitedly; "over yonder, and swimmin' to beat the band! He's tryin' to make the floating bridge we're on, but seems like the current keeps agrippin' him, and holdin'
him back. Looks like he's mighty near played out in the bargain."
"Why, however could he have got there, and who is he, d'ye reckon, Max?" Steve inquired, turning as usual to the leader when a knotty problem was to be solved.
"I think I know," replied Max, without hesitation; "you seem to have forgotten that we weren't alone on the bridge when it fell."
"Oh! shucks! yes, you mean that Shack Beggs!" Bandy-legs suggested, and there was a vein of disappointment and indifference in his voice that Max did not like.
True, that same Shack Beggs had been one of the most aggressive of their foes in Carson. From away back he in company with a few other choice spirits of like mean disposition had never let an opportunity for annoying the chums pa.s.s. On numerous occasions he had planned miserable schemes whereby Max, or some of his best friends, would be seriously annoyed.
All the same that could be no excuse for their turning a deaf ear to the wild appeal for help which the wretched Shack was now sending forth. He was human like themselves, though built on different lines; and they could never hold their own respect if they refused to hold out a helping hand to an enemy in dire distress.
"We've just _got_ to try to get Shack up here with us, boys, if the chance comes our way," said Max, firmly.
"S'pose we have," muttered Bandy-legs, moodily; and his manner was as much as to say that in his opinion the young scoundrel struggling there in the water was only getting something he richly deserved; and that if it rested with him he would feel inclined to let Shack stay there until the extreme limit.
"But how can we do anything for him, Max?" asked Steve, who was not so bitter as Bandy-legs, and already began to feel a little compa.s.sion toward the wretched boy struggling so desperately in the agitated water, and nearly exhausted by his efforts.
"There's a small chance," said Max, who had been looking more closely than any of his chums. "You see this piece of the broken bridge keeps on turning around in the water all the while. Now we've got the west sh.o.r.e on our right hand, and pretty soon we'll have the east side that way. Well, perhaps we'll swing around next time far enough for us to stretch out and give Shack a helping hand."
"I believe you're right, Max," admitted Steve; "yes, she's swinging right along, and if he's wise he'll work in this way as much as he can.
But, Max, if we do pa.s.s him by without being able to reach him, it's going to be hard on Shack, because he looks like he's nearly all in, and won't be on top when we come around again."
"Then we've just got to reach him, you see!" returned Max, with that glow in his eyes the others knew so well, for it generally meant success to follow.