At the Black Rocks (Musaicum Christmas Specials). Edward A. Rand

rope," was a suggestion made by another boy, seizing a rope lying on the deck. A rope did not move Dick's imagination so powerfully as the Great Emperor. The rope was not nearly so daring as the raft, though it would have given speedy and sufficient help.

      "To the rescue!" rang out Dick's voice. "Not in a rush! Ho, there! Orderly, men!"

      Strutting forward with a blustering air, Dick led his rescue-band to the Great Emperor, which at the impulse of every rocking little wave thumped against the schooner's hull. The band of rescuers went down upon the raft with more of a tumble than was agreeable to Captain Dick of the Great Emperor. Dick concluded that there was too much of a crew to dexterously manage the raft in the swift voyage that must now be made. Several would-be heroes were sent back disappointed to the schooner, and they proceeded, when too late, to cast the rope which had been ignominiously spurned. It splashed the water in vain. Bartie tried to reach it; but it was like Tantalus in the fable striving to pluck the grapes beyond his grasp.

      "Cast off!" Dick was now shouting excitedly, pompously. "Pull with a will for the shipwrecked mariner!" was his second order.

      This meant to use two poles in poling and paddling, as might be more advantageous.

      In the meantime the boy fisherman on the rock had been operating energetically though quietly. He had seen the catastrophe, and had not ceased to watch the little fellow who was struggling with the current somewhere between the schooner and the shore. Bartie had aimed to reach the shore, and the distance was not great; but just in this place the current ran with swiftness and power, and the little fellow's strength was failing him. He had given several shrieks for help, but it seemed as if he had been doing that thing all through life; and as the world outside of gran'sir and granny had not paid much attention to his appeals, would the world do it now? Bart had almost come to the conclusion that it would be easier to sink than to struggle, when he heard a noise in the water and close at hand. Was it the Great Emperor? No; its deck was still the scene of an impressive demonstration of getting ready to do something. The noise heard by Bart had been made by the boy fisherman, who, stripping off his jacket, kicking off his boots, and sending his stockings after them, had thrown himself into the water, and was making energetic headway toward Bart. It was good swimming--that of some one who had both skill and strength on his side.

      "Bartie!" he shouted.

      What a world of hope opened before Bartie at the sound of that voice!

      "Here! here! Put your hands on my shoulders, not round my neck, you know. There! that is it. Now swim. We'll fetch her."

      Fetch what? It was a pretty difficult thing to say definitely what that indefinite "her" might mean. The current was still strong. Bart's rescuer, if alone, could have gained the shore again; but could he bring the rescued? Bart's face, pitiful and pale, projected just above the water, and as his wet hair fell back upon his forehead his countenance looked like that of a half-drowned kitten.

      A third party on the river, that of the fishermen in their cod-laden boat moving slowly up river and hugging the shore for the sake of help from the eddies, had now become conscious that something was going on.

      "What's that a-hollerin'?" asked one of the men, Dan Eaton, reversing his head.

      "Trouble enough!" exclaimed Bill Bagley, who had also taken a look ahead. "Pull, Bill!"

      "Put for them two boys, Dan! one is a-helpin' t'other."

      The boat began to advance as if the dead cod-fish had become live ones and were lending their strength to the oarsmen.

      "Good!" thought the rescuer in the water, who saw between him and the far-off, level, misty sky-line a boat and the backs of two fishermen. "Hold on there!" he said encouragingly to Bartie; "there's a boat coming!"

      The help did not arrive any too soon. Bartie's hands were resting lightly on his rescuer's shoulders, and he was arguing if he could not throw his arms around the neck of his beloved object, whether it might not be well to relinquish his feeble, tired hold altogether, and drop back into the soft, yielding depths of the water all about him; such an easy bed to lie down in! Life had given him so many hard berths. This seemed a relief.

      "Ho, there you are!" shouted Dan, as the boat came up. He seized Bartie, while Bill Bagley gripped the other boy, and both Bartie and his companion were hauled into the boat, rather roughly, and somewhat after the fashion of cod-fish, but effectually.

      "Now, Dan, let us pull for that cove and land our cargo!" said Bill. "You boys can walk home? We have got to go to the other side and take our fish to town."

      "Oh yes," said the rescuer.

      "I--I--can--walk!" exclaimed the shivering Bartie.

      "Ah, youngster, you came pretty near not walking ag'in if it hadn't been for t'other chap."

      This made Bartie feel at first very sober, and then he looked very grateful as he turned toward his rescuers and said,--

      "I--thank--you all. I--I--I'll do as--much for you--some time."

      "Will ye?" replied Bill Bagley with a grin. "Really, I hope we shan't be in that fix where you'll have to."

      "See there!" exclaimed Dan. "There's the boat adrift!"

      The Trafton boat was leisurely floating down the stream. Bart had forgotten all about this craft. A frightened look shadowed his face.

      "Don't you worry, Johnny!" said Bill Bagley kindly. "We will land you, and then go a'ter your craft."

      "But I promised gran'sir to go for the doctor."

      "Dr. Peters?"

      "Yes."

      "Wall, Dan and I are goin' near the old man's, and we'll send him over.--Won't we, Dan?"

      "And I'll bring your boat up to your landing," said his young rescuer to Bart. "So you go right home and get warm and don't worry."

      A thankful look, like sunshine out of a dark cloud, broke out of Bart's black eyes, and he shrank closer to the sympathetic breast on which he leaned.

      "I'll do as much for you," he whispered to the boy fisherman.

      "That's all right, Bartie," replied his rescuer.

      "See here!" now inquired Dan. "What are those spoonies up to? Where are they a-goin', I wonder, on that raft? To Afriky?"

      "Guess that craft's got to be picked up too. She's a-makin' for the sea in spite of all their polin'," said Bill.

      The Great Emperor was indeed moving seaward. Captain Dick was frantically ordering his crew to "pull her round;" but like sovereigns generally, the Great Emperor had a mind of its own, and would not be "pulled round." Deliberately the raft was making headway for the open sea, and possibly "Afriky." It might be a conspiracy on the part of wind and tide to aid in this wilful attempt of the raft; but if a conspiracy, it was no secret. The tide was openly pressing against the raft with its broad blue shoulders, and the wind openly blew against the boys, as if they were so much canvas spread for its filling.

      "What you up to, fellers?" shouted Dick to Dab and John Richards, who managed one of the poles. "Bring her round and head her for the shore!"

      "We can't," said John pettishly.

      "Can't!" replied Dick in scorn. "Why can't you? Tell me! Then we will spend the night on the sea.-- You pull, Jimmy."

      "Can't!" said Jimmy Davis nervously. "She--she--won't turn--and--"

      Here his pole slipped out of its hole and down he tumbled on the raft, his pole falling into the water.

      "Oh dear!" shrieked Dick. "What a set! There goes that oar! Reach after it, Dab!"

      Dab already was beating the water furiously with his pole in his efforts to reach that "oar" now adrift. It was all in vain. The conspiracy to take them all to sea and there let them spend the chilly night had spread to the very equipments of the Great Emperor.

      "Catch me on a raft ag'in!" whimpered John Richards.

      "Catch