Springing to her feet, Betty Jo started madly up the trail that leads
over the bluff. The men followed.
Immediately below Elbow Rock there is a deep hole formed by the waters
that pour around the point of the cliff, and below this hole a wide
gravelly bar pushing out from the Elbow Rock side of the stream forces
the main volume of the river to the opposite bank. In the shallow water
against the upper side of the bar they found them.
With the last flicker of his consciousness, Brian Kent had felt his feet
touch the bottom where the water shoals against the bar, and, with his
last remaining strength, had dragged himself and the body of the woman
into the shallows.
Betty Jo was no hysterical weakling to spend the priceless seconds of
such a time in senseless ravings. The first-aid training which she had
received at school gave her the necessary knowledge which her native
strength of character and practical common sense enabled her to apply.
Under her direction, the men from the clubhouse worked as they probably
never had worked before in all their useless lives.
But the man and the woman whose life-currents had touched and
mingled,--drawn apart to flow apparently far from each other, but drawn
together again to once more touch, and, as one, to endure the testing
of the rapids,--the man and the woman had not brought to the terrible
ordeal the same strength.
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