Above him the surface water bubbled and eddied; below him was darkness; around him was only green twilight.

For a moment he tarried there, and then arose to the surface and dashed the water from his eyes and face.

And suddenly, some thirty feet away, an arm clad in a white sweater sleeve came slowly into sight.
With a frantic leap through the water Joel sped toward it.

A bare head followed the upstretched arm; two wild, terror-stricken eyes opened and looked despairingly at the peaceful blue heavens; the white lips moved, but no sound came from them.

And then, just as the eyes closed and just as the body began to sink, as slowly as it had arisen, and for the last time, Joel reached it.
There was no time left in which to pause and select a hold of the drowning boy, and Joel caught savagely at his arm and struck toward the bank, and the inert body came to the surface like a water-logged plank.
"Clausen!" shouted Joel.