FRANK TO THE RESCUE.
Elder Jones made a wild grab at the girl just as she leaped over
the rail, but he failed to catch hold of her.
“Merciful goodness!”
He gasped the words as she struck the water like a professional
diver and disappeared from view.
Then he ran frantically about, hoarsely shouting:
“Stop the boat! Stop the boat!”
Frank Merriwell was astounded by this rash act of the handsome
girl, but barely had she disappeared beneath the surface of the
lake when he began to tear off his outer clothing with a haste that
indicated his purpose.
As Frank tugged at his shoes he saw the girl come to the surface,
and, hampered by clothing though she was, strike out toward the
little dog, which was trying to swim toward her.
Wildly waving his arms, the ministerial young man shouted:
“Hilda! Hilda! Stop the boat! Hilda, swim this way! She will be
drowned!”
Not a word did Frank Merriwell say, but with one bound he shot into
the air and plunged out over the stern rail of the steamer, his
body making a graceful curve in the air and plunging head downward
into the white water.
Merry quickly came to the surface, and started swimming after the
girl, who was still paddling toward the little dog, although it was
plain that her clothing greatly impeded her progress.
She did not look back, but kept straight on toward her imperiled
pet, her one determination seeming to be to save him or perish with
him. Her handsome and costly hat had been torn from her head as she
struck the water, and she was swimming with her head bare, her dark
hair seeming blacker than ever now that it was wet.
Merry struck out with powerful strokes, hearing a sudden tooting of
the steamboat whistle, which told him that the pilot knew what had
happened.
He grew to admire the girl more and more as he watched her, for he
could see that, were it not for her clothing, she was a very good
swimmer.
“She is either foolish or fearless,” he decided. “I do not think it
is the former, and she has a face that indicates fearlessness.”
Behind Frank and the girl the little steamer was slowing down,
while men were running about on her, shouting and throwing life
preservers overboard.
It was a scene of great excitement, but still the strange girl swam
on toward her dog, without once turning to look back.
Nearer and nearer to her Merriwell drew, forging through the water
as rapidly as he could, and feeling that his progress was far too
slow.
He saw that she would reach the dog before he could reach her, and
this was what happened, but he was close to her as she came near
enough to touch the whining little fellow.
“Good Jack--dear boy!” she called, encouragingly. “Keep up, Jack!
They’ll get us out!”
Then, having reached the little fellow, she turned about and saw
Frank Merriwell close at hand. She did not seem in the least
alarmed, but a smile of pleasure crossed her face, and then she
laughed outright.
“Dear me?” she exclaimed. “What made you?”
“I am here to assist you, miss,” said Frank; “but you are a
wonderfully good swimmer. Your clothes will become heavy soon, and
I shall find it a pleasure to help you keep up till the steamer
comes to our rescue.”
“But you are a stranger, and----”
“Do you think we really need an introduction now?” smiled Merry.
“No; but I had no right to expect this of you--don’t be frightened,
Jack--Elder Jones should have been the one; but it is plain he is
a physical coward, no matter what he is morally.”
Her lips curled a bit as she spoke of the man who had been her
companion on the boat, making it plain she entertained a feeling of
loathing for him.
“Can I help you now in any way?” asked Frank. “You swam so hard to
reach your dog that it must have taken your breath and strength.”
“I don’t need any help just now,” she said: “but if you will aid
Jack to keep up, poor little fellow!”
Then Frank took the dog, placed him on his shoulders, and paddled
along in that way, with the animal crouching on his head and
shoulders.
The girl laughed. It was the same bewitching laugh that had so
attracted Merriwell on the boat.
“You can’t imagine how funny you look!” she said.
“This is the latest style of headgear for gentlemen,” Frank laughed
back. “It is a dog-gone good thing.”
“Oh, what a horrid pun!” exclaimed the strange girl. “If you make
puns, I shall be sorry you jumped over to help me.”
“But if I do not make puns--what then? Will you know me after the
boat is reached?”
“I trust, sir, you do not think me utterly devoid of any sense of
gratitude? It was so good of you, an entire stranger, to do such a
thing.”
“Oh, it was nothing. You are beginning to find it difficult to keep
up. Your wet clothing is dragging on you now.”
“I can keep up till they reach us. They have stopped the boat--they
are turning.”
But Frank could see that her desperate exertion to reach the dog
had exhausted her more than she thought at first, and her wet
skirts were winding about her ankles and hampering the movements of
her lower limbs, making it very difficult for her to swim.
Now that Frank was so close to her and she had been deprived of
her hat, which might have added to her attractiveness, he could
see that she was fully as handsome as he had thought her at first
glance, for not even the plunge into the water had made her seem
otherwise. She had such dark eyes, and they expressed so much! Of
course, the water had taken the curl out of her hair, and that,
with the loss of her stylish hat, was the test that proved her
beauty, for she had lost not a bit of her attractiveness.
Her face was oval and finely molded, having just the needed
roundness and fullness to relieve it of delicacy, and not enough to
make it seem at all coarse. Her lips were still red, despite her
plunge into the lake. Her teeth were milky white and regular, and
she showed them to advantage when she laughed, without making too
much of a display.
It was plain enough to Frank that she was far from an ordinary
girl. He had seen other girls like her in Maine, at Rockland,
Camden, Belfast and Bar Harbor, but she seemed out of place in the
wooded country up around Grand Lake.
She saw him looking at her, and she smiled back at him, still
seeming in no way alarmed by what had happened and by their
position.
“I know what you are thinking,” she declared.
“Then you must be a mind-reader,” he returned.
“Sometimes I think I am something of a mind-reader--keep still,
Jack! You are all right.”
“Of what was I thinking?”
“You were wondering what sort of girl I could be. Confess it! I saw
it plain enough in your eyes.”
“Well, I was thinking that you did not seem like an ordinary girl,”
acknowledged Frank.
“Ordinary girl?” Her red lips curled. “What can an ordinary girl
do? No; I hope I am not an ordinary girl.”
She was breathing heavily.
“Let me aid you,” he urged. “It will be some time before the
steamer reaches us, and----”
“You have enough to hold Jack up. He must be considerable weight on
your head. You are very kind.”
“Oh, it’s nothing! I can aid you. You must rest a little to get
back your strength. Put your hands on my shoulders. That is it--one
on each shoulder. There, now I will simply paddle to keep us
afloat, while you rest.”
“How do you dare trust me this way?” she asked. “I may get
frightened--seize you around the neck--drown us both.”
“I will take my chances on that. Just keep that dog still, if you
can. It’s harder when he is moving around.”
“He can swim a while now,” she said, pushing him off into the
water. “It’s too much for you to support us both. It would be
selfish of me to expect so much.”
The little dog paddled about them, whining. Merriwell was not
attempting to make progress; he was simply keeping afloat without
exhausting himself.
“They are taking time enough with the steamer,” he said.
“What if we give out before they can reach us?” she half murmured.
“I have no right to drown you!”
“We were strangers, but circumstances have made us acquainted. Rest
more upon my shoulders, please. I can keep us up.”
“If we get out all right, I shall not forget this,” she said, her
voice assuming genuine earnestness. “It was a brave and noble thing
for you to do; but, do you know, I was sure you would do it.”
“You were?”
“Yes.”
“Why so?”
“I saw it in your face the moment I looked at you. Your face told
me you would not hesitate at danger.”
“I saw your friend, Mr. Jones, did not intend to----”
“Don’t mention him! Why, father actually wants me to marry him; but
now I never will--never in the world!”
Frank could not blame her. Indeed, he thought that, had not the man
declined to leap into the lake to her rescue, he was not the kind
of a man to become the husband of such a girl.
“I’m not going to marry at all!” she declared. “Of course, I may be
drowned, and that will settle it. But I’m not going to marry, if
I am not drowned. Two-thirds of the girls cannot get the one they
really want, and so they take the best they can get. If I can’t get
the one I want, I won’t have anybody.”
Then she laughed a little.
The steamer had turned about and was coming.
Frank saw something bobbing in the water and slowly paddled toward
it. The little dog, whining and trying to climb on the shoulders of
his mistress, swam along with them.
What Frank saw proved to be one of the life preservers that had
been tossed overboard. He secured it, uttering an exclamation of
satisfaction.
“Now you are all right!” he cried. “Let this life preserver buoy
you up. The boat will reach us soon.”
She did as directed.
“But how about you?” she anxiously asked.
“I am all right. I believe there is another!”
In a few moments he had secured two more. On one of these he placed
the dog; and the little creature clung to it, scrambling onto it
again when he partly fell off.
“Hurrah!” cried Merry. “Now we are all right! Why, this is simply a
little adventure to relieve the monotony of the trip up the lake.”
Pretty soon the steamer ran down close to them, lines were thrown
out, and they were drawn on board, the girl first, Frank following,
with the dog in his arms.