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shot the boat, impelled by the sturdy muscles of the sailors, Dick and Paul. In another minute the dory was lifted high on the crest of a wave, while the drifting craft was down in the hollow. The pitiful crying-whine sounded more plainly, and a moment later Dick shouted:

"Fellows, it isn't a baby at all. I can see it plainly now. It's a puppy! A little, brown puppy!" And, at the sound of the lad's voice the frantic animal redoubled its cries.

"Well, we've got to rescue it just the same," declared Frank, after a moment's blank look at his chums.

"We'll go alongside and take him out," suggested the young millionaire. "The poor brute must be almost starved."

"Better go easy," cautioned one of the sailors. "If you and Mr. Drew will unship your oars, Mr. Hamilton, Larson and I will go as close as we can. I don't want to have the side of our dory stove in, and there's quite a swell on."