He did what he could for the man, rolling him on his face to get out the
water he had swallowed. By this time the boat from the shore landed on
the island. The two men got out.
"Is he alive?" they asked of Roy.
"Yes, and he'll get better, too, I guess. Lucky he fell in the water. No
limbs are broken."
"Well, you're a pretty decent sort of fellow to get out of the race to
help an injured man," said one of the men.
"Well, I'll leave him to you now," rejoined Roy; "is there a hospital
near here?"
"There's one 'bout a mile away. We can phone for an ambulance."
"Good! Well, good-bye."
With a whirr and a buzz the boy was gone, and speedily became a speck in
the sky.
In the meantime the aviation field was in an uproar. Dashing toward it
had come the two leading aeroplanes. From dots in the sky no bigger than
shoe buttons they speedily became manifest as two aeroplanes aquiver
with speed. Blue smoke poured from their exhausts. Evidently the two
aviators were straining their craft to the utmost.
"It's that Cuban woman and the young girl flyer!" yelled a man who had a
pair of field glasses.
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