“Work, Fred! Work!” urged Grant desperately.

“I’m doing my best,” panted Fred, and from the way he drove his paddle into the water it was evident that what he said was true.

They made a little progress towards the shore. They moved still more swiftly downstream, however, for the current was powerful here. For every foot that they progressed towards shore they were drawn a yard closer to the rapids. Unless they reached the bank very soon they were certain to be forced to run the rapids whether they desired to or not.

George and John in the other canoe were in the same predicament. The two frail little craft seemed no stronger than shells and it was almost unbelievable that they could traverse that foaming stretch of water in safety. No one spoke now; every boy was too busily employed in the desperate struggle he was waging against the river.

The current eddied and swirled. From below came the roar of the water as it raced along in its mad course. Beside them was the shore and safety; below was danger, accident, and possible death.

When the two canoes had rounded the bend in the river the one which John and George occupied had been a trifle closer to shore. Consequently it had just that much advantage over the other. The occupants of the two canoes were too engrossed in their own struggles to take much notice of their companions, but out of the corner of his eye Grant saw that the other canoe had nearly reached its goal.

A moment later he heard a call from the shore sounding above the roar of the rapids below. It was George’s voice.

“Keep it up, Grant!” he shouted. “You’ll make it yet.”

“Stick to it, Fred!” cried Grant, encouraged by the knowledge that their companions had reached safety. “We can make it.”

“I’m sticking to it all right,” replied Fred grimly.

Closer and closer to shore they came. Nearer and nearer sounded the noise of the rapids. Could they win out? Certainly they could if nerve and determination were to count for anything.

Ahead of them Grant could see George frantically urging them on. He was so excited that he had run down into the water, where he stood knee-deep, begging and imploring his comrades to come to him. Inch by inch they seemed to move towards shore. Their muscles were aching from the strain now and it was agony for both boys to keep up the fight, but neither one gave even the slightest thought to quitting.

It almost seemed as if they were going to win out now. George was scarcely ten feet distant; arms outstretched he eagerly awaited a chance to seize the bow of the canoe and draw it and its occupants to safety. His chance did not come, however.

Just out of his eager reach a whirlpool caught the canoe. The bow swung suddenly around and Fred’s paddle was almost wrested from his grasp. In vain he and Grant fought. Twice the frail little boat spun around and then seized by a sudden eddy in the current was borne swiftly and relentlessly towards the rapids below.

“We’re goners!” cried Fred.

“Keep your nerve!” shouted Grant fiercely. “You do the steering from the bow. You can see the rocks from there.”

At racehorse speed the canoe shot forward. With every second its momentum increased until it seemed fairly to fly over the water. White-lipped and with jaws set the two boys sat and awaited their fate. From the shore George and John watched with feverish anxiety.

Now they were almost in the rapids. An eddy caught the canoe and it nearly upset. It escaped, however, and again sped on. Around it the water foamed white and hissed and snarled as it raced along. Black rocks stood out along the treacherous pathway. It seemed as if the canoe must surely come to grief on any one of a dozen of them.

Seated on the bottom of the canoe and with his eyes riveted on the rapids below, Fred wielded his paddle like a madman. First one side and then the other he dipped it, changing so swiftly sometimes as almost to bewilder the onlookers.

They were half way through the dangerous passage now. Was it possible that they could come through those angry waters untouched? It was out of the question; they had merely been lucky so far. At least that was the way George and John felt about it. Any moment they expected to see their comrades upset and disappear from sight beneath those terrible foaming waves.

Still the canoe raced on. One moment it had the speed of a locomotive and the next, caught by some eddying whirlpool, its momentum almost ceased, only to shoot forward suddenly again at a bewildering pace an instant later.

“I believe they’ll get through,” exclaimed George excitedly. He and John were standing on a large boulder which afforded them an excellent view of the rapids.

“Wait,” cautioned John quietly.

“‘Wait and see,’” smiled George.

“Please don’t joke,” muttered John. “I don’t feel like it.”

The onrushing canoe was almost through the rapids now. Could it be that two inexperienced boys were to come through that mad mill race alive? If they could last a moment more they were safe, but ahead of them was the most dangerous part of the rapids. Two huge rocks stood out in midstream scarcely six feet apart. Between them the water rushed and roared like a cataract. Below this spot the rapids ended and the current gradually slowed down to its normal swiftness.

Fred and Grant saw all this in the twinkling of an eye and they knew that the test was now to come. Both boys braced themselves; so swiftly did they move now that it almost seemed as if they were standing still and that it was the two great rocks that were charging down upon them. Closer and closer they came. With bated breath George and John watched from the shore, realizing their companions’ peril.

Fred, in the bow of the canoe, gripped his paddle with all his strength. One moment more and their lot would be decided. The rocks looked like mountains as they bore down upon them. Now they were just ahead, ugly and bristling in their might; now they were alongside; now they were past. Fred and Grant had run the rapids in safety. They could scarcely realize it. The danger was over and they were alive.

“Yea, Fred!” shouted Grant. “We’re through!”

“Thank goodness,” sighed Fred, and he sank back limply against one of the thwarts of the canoe.

“You’re a wonder,” cried Grant.

“It’s a wonder we’re alive, you mean.”

“That’s true, too. But the way you steered!”

“It wasn’t due to any skill on my part; we were just lucky.”

“Anyway,” exclaimed Grant happily, “we ran the rapids and I wouldn’t give up that experience for a million dollars now.”

“Neither would I, now,” agreed Fred. “It would take a good deal more than that to make me go through with it again, though.”

They had now reached a point two or three hundred yards below the rapids and decided to go ashore and wait for John and George. It was with a very comfortable feeling that the two boys set their feet on solid ground once more.

“Just look back there and see what we came through,” exclaimed Grant.

“I don’t see how we did it,” said Fred. “I wonder if we really did.”

“You think you were dreaming, I suppose,” laughed Grant. “I can swear we did do it, though, and I guess Pop and String will, too.”

“It doesn’t seem possible.”

“Here we are.”

“I know it. Just look at those rapids, though. They look like Niagara Falls from here.”

“There ought to be good fishing along here,” remarked Grant.

“I should think so. Perhaps Pop can catch his big trout here. The big fellows usually stay in the deep pools below rapids like this.”

“Here they come now,” exclaimed Grant, as John and George appeared, carrying their canoe along the shore.

“We’ll have some fun with them about it, anyway,” said Fred, in a low voice. “Watch me get a rise out of them.”

“Hey, you two,” shouted George, as he spied his friends. “What do you mean by scaring String and me almost out of our wits?”

“Do you suppose we did it on purpose?” laughed Grant.

“Why, that was nothing at all for us,” said Fred, airily.

“Oh, is that so?” demanded George, mimicking Fred’s tone. “Well, if that was nothing, I’d hate to see what something was.”

“That was no effort at all for us,” continued Fred, carelessly.

“Put this canoe down quickly, String,” exclaimed George. “Let me get at that fellow. He ought to be drowned.”

With a sigh of relief John and George deposited their burden on the ground and George immediately advanced threateningly towards Fred.

“Let him alone, Pop,” laughed Grant. “He’s the best steersman this side of the Canadian border.”

“He was pretty good, wasn’t he?” exclaimed John. “How did you two fellows like shooting the rapids?”

“It was wonderful,” said Fred heartily. “I never had such a wonderful sensation in all my life.”

“I’ll bet you were both almost scared to death,” said George, shortly.

“We were,” laughed Fred, “but now that it’s all over we’re glad we did it.”

“Fred thinks there ought to be some good fishing in these pools along here,” said Grant. “What do you say to trying them?”

“That suits me,” said George readily. “I’m hungry, too.”

“We’ll have lunch right here then,” exclaimed Grant, “and afterwards we’ll try our hands at the trout fishing.”

“And Pop will catch the biggest trout that ever swam in the waters of the Adirondacks,” added Fred, nudging John as he spoke.

“Huh,” exclaimed George disgustedly. “I wish you’d stop that talk. I suppose you’ll be worse than ever now that you’ve run these rapids.”

“I didn’t say anything about myself,” smiled Fred. “I was talking about the big trout you were going to catch.”

“I suppose you think you’re the only one here who can shoot rapids or catch fish or do anything at all.”

“I told you I was talking about you, not about myself,” insisted Fred. “I said you’d probably catch the biggest trout in the Adirondacks.”

“You think you’re pretty funny,” snorted George. “You just wait and see.”