He yelled again; but his chums were too intent upon winning the race to pay much attention to him. "Come on, don't lag behind!" called out Dick. "You may win yet."
Before anybody noticed that something was wrong, Bob had reached the rudder post and had won. But now old Jacob was on his feet, and pointing excitedly to where Leander was clutching at the empty barrel and yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Somethin' is wrong with the lad," said the old Yankee tar.
"Help! help!" screamed the terrified boy. "Something has me by the legs and is trying to pull me under!"
"Is it possible!" cried Robert Menden. He turned to the old sailor. "What can it be?"
"Don't know—maybe a devil-fish," was the answer.
"Help! don't leave me to die!" came from Leander. He had slipped from the barrel, but now he clutched it once more.
As quickly as he could, old Jacob procured a life line and threw it toward the lad.
But the line fell short and Leander gave another scream.
"Throw me a long knife, and I'll try to help him," said Dick. "He shan't perish if I can help him."
"No, no, boy; it may cost you your life," shuddered Robert Menden. "All of you had better come on board as quickly as you can."
But none of the members of the Gun and Sled Club would listen to this. They had stuck together before in extreme peril, and they would do the same again.
"Keep up; we are coming!" shouted Dick, and having procured a long kitchen knife he swam toward Leander with all speed. Soon the others had armed themselves in a similar fashion and were following. Even faithful old Dash seemed to realize that something was wrong, and with a loud splash he, too, went over the yacht's side.
"They have grit, as you Americans would say," observed Robert Menden. "What do you think it is?"
"We'll know in a minit," replied old Jacob, and rushed for a gun.
By this time poor Leander was utterly exhausted. The thing about his legs was growing tighter and tighter and pulling downward so heavily that the barrel to which the boy clung was almost totally submerged.
"Save me!" he gasped once more. "I'm going down! It's pulling me under!"
"I'm coming!" answered Dick. "What is it? Can't you make out?"
"Something slippery and slimy. Oh, save me!"