“What can we do?” said Bob, his tone showing his dismay. “Seems like we are in a bad fix. ‘No boat, no can go!’ as the Chinaman says.”,
He thrashed the water with the oars, but, in spite of his frantic efforts, the boat was whirled towards what end he could not guess. Just at the brink a sudden cross rip caught the boat and flung it against one of the rocks which the hurrying waters had not been able to wear away. A sickening crash announced the end of the craft that had given such good service. The same jar flung Bob out and a second later he was hurtling through the foam-laden air over the edge of the fall.,
Every one looked at him as he stood beside the Admiral—such a little boy, with comical, freckled nose and smooth, brown hair. He looked up at his big, stalwart uncle who was reading about him, Johnny Blossom!.
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