called: "Fred Fenton in the Line; Or, The Football Boys of Riverport School."

During the Winter and early Spring Fred had continued to hold the good opinions of most of his schoolmates; and with the summer now at hand he was ready to join with a boy's enthusiasm in the new sports that the season brought in its train.

Talking earnestly, the two lads were still walking along the edge of the river some little distance above the town, when, just as they turned a bend in the stream, they heard a sharp scream, accompanied by much splashing in the water.

"Listen to that racket, would you, Fred?" cried Bristles, turning toward his comrade, his face filled with alarm; "as sure as you live, somebody's fallen into the river, and it sounds like a child, too."

"Come on!" was all Fred said in reply; indeed, even while throwing these two words over his shoulder he was leaping down the bank of the Mohunk.

CHAPTER II

THE TRICKY CANOE

Fred reached the edge of the water almost before his companion realized what was going on. Throwing off his coat and discarding his shoes he plunged headlong into the river.

A canoe had unset in the stream, and a small boy was struggling to maintain his desperate clutch on the sloping side of the craft floating with the current.

Fortunately the swift stream was bringing it toward Fred as he plunged into the water. Had it been otherwise he would hardly have been able to reach it before the boy sank for the last time.

Bristles Carpenter had by now recovered his wits, and about the time Fred gave that mighty splash, when going headlong into the river, he too was hurrying down the bank, trying in his clumsy fashion also to discard his coat and shoes.

The Fenton boy had, meanwhile, struck out straight for the canoe, with the little lad trying vainly to get hold of the bobbing gunwales, disappearing under the surface several times, to come up again spluttering, and choking.

Fred was a good swimmer, and never in all his past life had he known such an occasion for making speed as then. He saw that the small boy could not remain long above the water; and if he did go down, it might be next to impossible to find him in time to get him ashore while life remained.

Just as Bristles, panting for breath, and eager to lend a helping hand, arrived at the brink of the water, he saw his chum reach out, and grasp the sinking child by the shoulder.

"Whoo!"

That was Bristles, trying to give a cheer, but making a sad mess of it because of shortness of breath.

He saw that Fred, by a great effort, had raised the little fellow, and actually pushed him into the canoe, which had not overturned when it threw its occupant into the treacherous river, though the craft was much waterladen.

And now the rescuer was starting to swim back toward the shore, urging the little craft along with him.

Bristles Carpenter had actually started into the river, and was already almost up to his waist when he chanced to remember that he was accounted one of the poorest swimmers among the Riverport boys.

"Don't come out, Bristles; stay there and try to give me a hand!"

From the way Fred called this, it was evident that his recent exertions must have quite exhausted him; and that he felt the need of some assistance, in order to get ashore with the canoe. The current was particularly strong at this place, it being accounted one of the danger spots of the Mohunk; and it seemed averse to letting its intended victim get away from its grip.

Once Bristles had caught hold of Fred's arm he braced himself, and soon the other was able to get his feet on the bottom.

Together they drew the canoe to the shore.

"Why, hello! here's a queer thing!" exclaimed Bristles, as, having clambered out of the river he bent down to look at the half-drowned lad in the canoe; "did you know it was little Billy Lemington you yanked out of the water?"

"Yes, I knew it all along," replied Fred, as he squeezed some of the water from his trousers, and then leaned over to see how the boy was coming on.

Considering what a narrow escape little Billy had just had, he seemed to be pretty well off. He had swallowed some water, it was true, and his face was ashen white; but he could get up on his knees, and was soon feeling better.

"It just kicked me out," he said, when Bristles asked him how the accident had happened.

"Say, that's a way all canoes have, I understand," Bristles chuckled. "They just watch till you're not lookin', and then chuck you overboard. Some of 'em are worse than a bucking bronco at throwing a feller. But looky here, Billy, how does it come you're in this cranky boat? I'd 'a thought your dad would have told you to leave Buck's canoe alone."

"He did," replied the little fellow, with a half sob; "but I thought I knowed how to manage it. But I'm never goin' to try again, no siree. But won't I get it when they hear all about me bein' in the water! Wish you wouldn't tell on me. Pop'll just give me hot cakes for not mindin' him. Please don't tell. I'll promise never to get in this old boat again, sure I will!"

Fred and Bristles exchanged glances.

"What do you say, Fred?" asked the latter; "ought we keep still about it?"

Under ordinary circumstances Fred would have said that the parents of the boy ought to know what chances he had been taking; but the conditions were rather peculiar just then. If he told, it would seem as if he might be trying to "draw the teeth" of his enemy, Buck Lemington, by boasting how he had saved the latter's little brother, of whom the bully was especially fond. And Fred's pride rose at the idea of his being considered that sort of a fellow.

"Oh! I'm willing to keep mum about it, Bristles, if you are," he said, slowly, after having duly considered the matter. "He promises never to get in this cranky canoe again. For the life of me I can't see how he ever paddled it all the way up here."

"I didn't," spoke up Billy, quickly. "Buck lent it to Bob Armstrong, and last night I heard him say he thought it funny Bob didn't drop down with his boat. So I just thought to-day I'd walk up to Bob's and if he was around, tell him I'd come for our canoe."

"And Bob was silly enough to let you have it, eh?" asked Bristles, indignantly.

Billy was rapidly recovering his nerve. He even made a wry face as he went on to answer the question put to him.

"Why no. You see Bob, he wasn't around; so, because I didn't want to have my long walk all for nothin', I just hunted up the paddle in his woodshed, and started for our house. I'd a made it, too, if I hadn't leaned too far over when a rock bumped into us, and the old thing just pitched me out."

"Well," said Fred, laughingly, "suppose you jump around a little, and dry off before you go home, Billy. And neither of us will let on what happened. I'll get the canoe down to your house in some fashion, though I hope Buck will be away this morning."

"He's gone off with some of the fellers to Grafton, to look at somethin' they want to buy," the small chap continued; "and he won't be back till noon. That's just why I thought I'd help get his boat down the river. You see Bob's with him, I guess."

So after they had seen Billy scamper away, keeping in the warm sun so as to get his clothes dried, and avoiding the road so that he might not meet inquisitive people who would wonder how he came to be so wet, Fred and Bristles together entered the canoe, the latter having recovered his shoes and coat.

They recovered the paddle and Fred pushed off, and went quietly along down the river until finally he was able to bring the craft to the shore at the place where Buck generally kept it housed in a small shanty he had built.

They tied it up, and sauntered away. By this time their clothes had dried fairly well.

They were just leaving the vicinity of the boat house where Buck kept the canoe, when Bristles caught sight of a boy