"Will they hold?" questioned Joe.
"I hope so," answered Lambert. "Anyway, it's the best we can do."
Letting the lines run out as far as possible, the soldiers and Joe moved up the bank of the stream to where there was a series of rocks projecting into the water a distance of several yards.
"Now brace me, and I will haul in," said Lambert. Then he called to Darry to help them by swimming as well as he was able, with the lines caught around him, under the arms.
"All right, I'm ready!" cried the boy, and dropped into the stream, taking care to steer clear of the tree.
Lambert hauled in slowly but steadily. The line straightened out and became taut, and looked as if it might snap at any instant. Joe's heart came up into his throat, and he breathed a silent prayer that his cousin might be saved.
"Here he comes!" muttered Lambert at length, and they could see that Darry's feet at last rested on the sandy bottom of the river. They continued to haul in, and soon he was safe. When on shore he pitched himself on the grass, completely exhausted.
"Oh, how glad I am!" cried Joe, as he knelt beside his cousin. "I was almost certain you'd be drowned!"
