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“Can you make it?” asked Bob. “We’ll have to swim.”, About all he could gather was from their actions. Jerry seemed to be instructing the Mexican and emphasizing that certain things must be done. Miguel at times grew excited and waved his hands frantically as a torrent of words came from his lips. Finally, just as Bob was sure his cramped muscles would force him to move his position, thereby giving away his presence, they seemed to come to an agreement., As he swam nearer to the object which was swirling around in the water, it constantly eluded his grasp, but he saw that it was Jerry. It was as if the river was playing tag with him, snatching the thing he wanted out of his reach. Reason told him that Jerry was dead. What was the use of his trying to keep up this endeavor when it was all so useless? But something kept him striving, held him to his aim. He couldn’t give up. With a last despairing lunge, he shot into the eddy and caught his comrade’s shoulder. With infinite pains he swam with his prize to the bank. Safely there, he had only strength to pull it halfway out of the water..