cry for help from the dark waters beneath them! The cry sounded about twenty yards off in the direction of the hub-bub in the river.
Always of an impetuous nature, Pop, without hesitation, threw off his tattered overcoat and hat and leaped into the cold waters. The shock of them made him gasp for an instant. Then he forged out with a lusty stroke in the direction whence the cry had come. For two or three minutes that seemed an eternity he groped around. Then to his right he heard sounds of a human being floundering in the water. He shot over toward the sound and had the satisfaction of clutching and seizing in a firm grip the body of a man of considerable bulk and quite alive, though nearly exhausted.
"Grab hold of me!" Pop panted. "Can you understand?"
The man evidently did for he put his hands on Pop's shoulders. The ex-ball player struck out for the piling, reaching it finally with considerable effort and when all in. Somebody had had sense enough to run for a life preserver. This was now hurled in the direction of Pop. With its aid Pop scrambled with his burden up onto the piling. There a policeman took them in charge and hurried both through the crowd that had now gathered and into the waiting room of the ferry house. The officer chased the curiosity seekers and closed the doors.
"Now, what are youse fellows' names?" asked the cop, producing a notebook and a stub of a pencil.
