CHAPTER XII
QUEER ACTIONS
For a second or so Frank did not respond to the last words of Pep. Then, as the latter repeated them, Frank asked:
"What do you mean?"
"Why, I mean there's more in that boy's sitting out there alone on that rock, where he can't get ashore without getting wet—there's more in it than seems."
"In what way?"
"Are you game for a swim?" asked Pep, not exactly answering Frank's question.
"A swim? Weren't you in once to-day?"
"Yes, but I can stand another. Do you see my game?"
"Well, not exactly," was the answer. Frank looked around and saw that Royston and his friend were still under the sun umbrella.
"Then it isn't about them?" Frank asked, nodding toward the two men.
"No, it's about him," and Pep pointed to the lonely lad on the rock.
"Him?" cried Frank, and his voice showed his surprise.
"If we swim out, we can get a look at his face," went on Pep, "and I don't mind admitting that I should like to see it. I'm interested in that chap."
"So am I," confessed his chum. "He didn't go out there at low tide, without a bathing suit on, and stay out until he is entirely surrounded by water, like some Robinson Crusoe island, for nothing. Come on, we'll go in."
A little later Frank and Pep, attired in bathing suits, were making their way out toward the rock where sat the lonely lad. The water between his perch and the shore was not deep enough for swimming, so Frank and Pep had to wade out to the boulder. Beyond them the sea broke in lazy, white swells, and, farther out, the seals barked as they clambered up on the rocks, and splashed back into the ocean again.
"Don't appear to take any notice of him," urged Pep, who seemed to have undertaken the management of this little expedition.
"All right," answered Frank. "I'll leave it all to you."
Without appearing to do so they made their way by degrees close to the rock on which sat the boy. He had not turned around, nor changed his position, but sat there most dejectedly.
Finally the two chums were in a position where they could turn and look at the boy. And the sight of his face startled them both. For if ever there was hopeless misery and despair written on a human countenance it was on that boy's.
For a moment or two he did not seem aware of the scrutiny of the two chums. He remained, staring off into vacancy, looking across the vast reaches of the heaving Pacific, as Balboa might have looked across its wide waters when first he set eyes on its wonders.
At the boy's feet little, splashing waves broke. The tide was rising fast now, but he did not seem to mind. He just looked off across the water, as though his thoughts were far away.
"Did you notice him?" asked Pep of Frank, as they moved slowly along together.
"Did I? Well, I should say I did! If that chap isn't in a bad way I miss my guess!"
"Keep watch of him," advised Pep.
"What for?" Frank wanted to know. "We can't pick him up and make him wade ashore; can we?"
"Not exactly."
"And if he wants to stay out here on a rock, admiring the scenery, and get his feet wet wading ashore, that isn't any of our affair; is it, Pep?"
"Well, perhaps not, if you put it that way. But I have a notion that something else is in the wind."
"What?"
"I'll not mention it. Just keep watch and see what happens."
By this time the two chums were in front of the rock on which the boy sat. A wave, larger than any others that had preceded it, came rolling in, and, as bathers will often do, Frank and Pep turned their backs toward it to keep the water from their faces. This brought them so that they were facing the strange lad, whose sadness had so impressed them.
The boy caught their glance, and quickly turned his head away. At the same moment the wave reached him. It was large enough to wash almost completely over the rock, and the lad was made quite wet. But he did not seem to mind.
"That's funny," murmured Frank. "I mean, it's odd, though there is very little humor in it. I wonder if that chap's crazy?"
Somehow or other Frank's mind went back to the days in New York preceding their trip to San Francisco. He recalled the time he had applied that same expression, of "crazy," to the man who had almost rushed in the path of the automobile on Broadway.
"Something's wrong, that's sure," declared Pep. "I've almost a notion to speak to him."
"Oh, I wouldn't do that. We might be told to mind our own affairs, or something like that. And you know how that would make you feel."
"Yes, pretty cheap," admitted his chum.
"And, maybe after all, it's a joke," went on Frank.
"A joke!" cried Pep. They had started to wade forward again, and were out of earshot of the queer youth. "What do you mean, Frank?"
"Maybe he's trying to see how long he can stay there just for a wager, you know. Some college freshman stunt, you know."
"Not this time of year," was Pep's rejoinder. "My idea is, and I might as well tell you, that this lad——Look out! There he goes!" and Pep, hastily interrupting himself, made a rush back toward the water-surrounded rock and its lonely occupant.
"What's up?" cried Frank, but he need not have asked, for he saw for himself.
Without a word Frank started to follow his chum.
What Frank saw, and what Pep had seen, that caused him to cry out so, was the sight of the youth standing up on the rock, and then deliberately taking a position which indicated that he intended to jump into the water.
"Hold on!" cried Pep. "Don't do it! I'll be there in a moment!"
"Why, he's trying to commit suicide!" exclaimed Frank.
Pep neither objected to, nor agreed with this statement. He ran forward as fast as he could in the water, no easy task as any of you know, who have tried, and, splashing the salty spray all about him, Pep reached the rock in time to grasp the youth in his arms.
"Hold on!" cried Pep. "Don't do it! You're too young for that yet. Hold on!"
The youth did not argue. He simply struggled against Pep's hold and tried to get closer to the lapping water, as it splashed about the rock.
"Come on, Frank!" cried his chum.
In another instant the two had hold of the strange lad, who, after a moment's struggle, gave up limply, and looked at his two rescuers with sad eyes.
"I won't thank you," he said in dull, hopeless tones. "You might much better have let me go."
"Indeed we hadn't!" cried Pep. "Then you were going to make an end of yourself, eh? I guessed right!"
"It doesn't make any difference," was the answer. "I might as well admit the truth. I am tired of life."
"And at your age, too!" cried Frank, for the boy was even younger than he had thought at first; some years the junior of himself and Pep.
"Yes, I wish it were all over," was the hopeless rejoinder. "I haven't anything left to live for."
"Look here!" exclaimed Pep a bit roughly, as he half lifted, half shoved the boy higher up on the rock. "That's no way to talk!"
"Well, I mean it!"
"You think you do! You're in trouble, maybe. Well, we've been; haven't we, Frank?"
"I should say so; lots of times. But do you mean to say you came out on this rock, and waited for the water to get high enough so you could drown yourself?"
"That's about it—yes," and the voice was sullen. "I haven't anybody to care for me, and I haven't anyone to care for. I thought I might as well end it all. I didn't think I'd be interfered with out here, but when I saw you two fellows hanging around I thought I had better get it over with."
"I thought you had some such notion," Pep returned. "That's why I spoke to you about him, and why I kept my eyes on him," he went on to his chum.
"Now you look here!" Pep said sharply to the strange lad. "You want to give up all such foolishness. Now you don't want those folks back there to know you tried to drown yourself."
"Oh, I don't know what I want," was the almost sobbed reply. "No, of course I don't want them to know. They would only laugh, now that you have prevented me from doing it."
"No, they won't laugh, for they sha'n't know anything about it!" said Pep, grimly. "Frank, what shall we do?"
"Get him ashore, the first thing. After that we can decide best how to help him."
"You can't help me—no one can," said the lad. "It's too late. I wish you had let me—let me do it," he faltered.
"Nonsense!" cried Pep. "Now look here. You just be sensible. My chum and I will carry you to shore. You can pretend that you didn't see the tide rising, and were caught on the rock. We came out in our bathing suits and got you."
"Oh, don't bother with me!" begged the youth, miserably. "I'm not worth it."