“It’s too dangerous, Dan. The current is treacherously swift. It might sweep you past the boat and on down river.”
“But if I don’t try, we’ll lose the boat,” Dan argued. “And the Indian feather headdress! The Cubs were counting on it to win the Pack handicraft exhibition.”
“Mr. Holloway’s boat is worth considerable money,” Brad added, swinging toward support of Dan’s plea. “If only we could get it now before it’s damaged—”
“I know I could swim out there,” Dan argued. “At the Y I’ve done three times that distance without even tiring.”
“But not in a swift current, Dan,” the Cub leader said.
“I’ll be swimming downstream, not against the current, Mr. Hatfield. Please let me try.”
“Dan, it’s too risky. If I could swim worth a cent myself—”
“You can’t,” said Dan. “That’s why you’re afraid to let me try. I know my own strength in the water. I can do it easily.”
Mr. Hatfield smiled and stood a moment studying the current which eddied about the half-submerged bush and the boat.
“I believe there’s a rope in the back of the car,” he said finally. “If it’s long enough we may be able to do something.”
Fetching the rope, he coiled it carefully and tested its length by tossing it far out into the river. It fell only a few feet short of the boat.
“My throw was weak,” the Cub leader said. “The rope actually is long enough to reach. Dan, you’re dead sure you want to try this?”
“Then strip to your shorts. You’ll need freedom of movement.”
Dan eagerly pulled off his shoes and divested himself of his outer garments. Carefully the Cub leader then tied the rope about his waist and tested the knot to make certain it would hold.
“Wade out as far as you can into the river,” he instructed the boy. “When you have to, swim. If you can’t make it, Brad and I will pull you in fast.”
Brad and the Cub leader removed their own shoes and socks, rolled up their trousers, and waded out a short distance into the flood.
“Now be careful,” Mr. Hatfield warned as Dan prepared to start on alone. “If you find yourself in trouble, signal with a quick tug of the rope.”
“I’ll be all right,” the boy replied confidently.
While Mr. Hatfield and Brad held one end of the rope, he waded on alone, picking his way cautiously. The muddy water washed to his knees, then to his waist, and finally came to shoulder depth.