"Here he comes," panted Dave, tugging at Dick's body with all
his might. "Gracious! I hope he isn't drowned!"
Greg, too, exerted all his strength. Though it seemed ages to
the anxious ones it was really but the work of a few seconds.
As Dick's head emerged above the surface of the water he gave
a quick gasp. Then another.
"Oh, the air seems good," he moaned. "I tried to keep from opening
my mouth or breathing, but it nearly burst my lungs!"
"Are you all right now?" asked Darry, holding his chum up.
"If you'll help me to the bank I shall be, I think," answered
Prescott weakly.
"Why, what-----" began Dave anxiously.
"I was badly bruised by being pinned under the car," Dick admitted,
in a still weaker voice.
"No bones broken, eh?" broke in Greg Holmes.
"I---I think not," Dick answered.
"Don't keep him talking," ordered Dave sternly. "Put in your
strength and help me lift good old Dick up into the road."
"I guess I can do that job better," interposed Simmons, who had
let go of the car. "Let me have the boy."
Dick was borne up to the road in the deputy's strong arms.
"Can you stand?" asked Simmons.
"Put me on my feet, sir, and let me see," begged Dick.
He took a few steps, wincing, his face white.
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