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DAVE PORTER AND HIS RIVALS

had let go, being probably too exhausted to keep hold.

"Oh, Dave, what shall we do?" gasped Roger. He stood next in the life line.

"Make two lines!" cried Dave. "Here, you get hold of one of my feet, and Messmer can get hold of the other. Now don't let go, whatever you do. I'll go down after Hally."

"But the danger——" began Ben.

"We can't leave Hally to smother to death there, Ben. Now then, hold tight," answered Dave.

The two lines were formed, each end boy holding tight to one of Dave's ankles. Then Dave threw himself down in the snow and wormed his way to the edge of the hole. Several feet below he saw one of Tom Hally's hands sticking up, the fingers working convulsively. He made a clutch and got a firm grip of the wrist.

"Haul away!" he called. "But be easy, or the edge of the hole may cave in!"

Under Dave's directions the boys hauled away with care, and presently poor Tom Hally came to the surface of the snow, and was dragged to a safe spot. He was all but exhausted, and too weak to stand.

"Here, we'll carry you to the school!" cried Roger, and he and some others made a "chair," and thus the unfortunate lad was carried to Oak