The aeroplane in front
of Roy dived wildly, then fairly somersaulted. The strain was too great.
A wing parted.
"It's the end of him!" exclaimed Roy, in a whisper.
Down shot the broken aeroplane with the velocity of lightning. It just
dodged the trees on the little island and then it plunged into the lake,
first spilling Speedwell out. Then down on top of him came the smother
of canvas, wood and wires.
"He'll be suffocated if I don't go to his rescue," murmured Roy; "it
will put me out of the race, but I must save him."
There was a clear spot on the island, and toward this the boy dived. In
the meantime men were putting out from shore in a small boat. But the
boy knew that they could not reach the unfortunate Speedwell in time to
save his life.
Roy made a clever landing on the island and then lost no time in wading
out to the half floating, half submerged wreckage. In the midst of it
lay Speedwell. Roy dragged him ashore. The man's face was purple, his
limbs limp and lifeless and he choked gaspingly. Another minute in the
water would have been his last, as Roy realized.
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