A story of the adventures of four boys who spent a vacation camping in the Adirondacks.
"Here you are!" cried Grant, leaning out from the shore as far as he dared and holding the stick toward his friend. "Grab hold of this."
After one or two unsuccessful attempts George succeeded in catching hold of the stick. Grant drew him up as close to the rock as possible and then Fred and John bending down over the edge seized him by his arms and quickly pulled him out of the water and to safety.
"How did you happen to--" began Fred, when John suddenly interrupted him.
"What have you got around your legs?" he demanded in astonishment.
"My fishing line," said George, smiling weakly. "It tripped me up."
"Well, I should think it might," exclaimed John. "How in the world did you ever get it wound around you like that?"
"I had my rod in one hand," said George, "and I tried to jump from that rock over there to this one. I landed here all right, but when I jumped the line got twisted around my ankles and I lost my balance. It finally tripped me up and I fell into the