"Give him to me, Hall.

Hath! Over here!" Tom didn't relinquish quite all his burden, though.

He still had one of Steve's arms around his neck when, a minute later, Marvin and Williams having reached them meanwhile, the rowboat appeared out of the darkness.
It was no light task to get Steve into the boat, but it was accomplished somehow, and then, Tom dragging astern, hands clutching the gunwale grimly, and the others, too, claiming at least partial support from the boat, the rescuers turned shoreward.

Wisely, Churchill, who handled the oar, headed the boat toward the nearer point, and when the keel grounded, eager hands were waiting to lift Steve out and hurry him back to the hotel.

Tom crawled out of the water and subsided on the bank, still fighting for breath and feeling rather sick at his stomach.
Between Fowler and Milton he was lifted and half carried, weakly protesting that he could walk all right and promptly crumpling up when they allowed him to try.
Steve had been taken up to the room he was occupying, and Danny Moore was administering to him when Tom was brought in and laid on his bed.
Steve was already talking weakly and Danny was telling him to keep still.
"Don't be talking," he said.