plunge."
"All right. But it's the last, though."
Then a long stream of naked figures would scramble up the bank and
rush for the last place. "First out, last in," was the rule, for the boys
would much rather jump on some one else than be jumped on
themselves. After the long line of naked figures had vanished into the
boiling water, one would be seen quietly stealing out and up the bank
kicking his feet clean as he stepped off the projecting root onto the
grass, when, plunk! a mud ball caught him, and back he must come. It
took them full two hours to escape clean from the water, and woe
betide the boy last out. On all sides stood boys, little and big, with mud
balls ready to fling, till, out of sheer pity, he would be allowed to come
forth clean. Then, when all were dressed, and blue and shivering--for
two amphibious hours, even on a July day, make one blue--more games
would begin, leap-frog, or tag, or jumping, or climbing trees, till they
were warm enough to set out for home.
It was as the little ones were playing tag that Hughie came to grief. He
was easily king of his company and led the game. Quick as a weasel,
swift and wary, he was always the last to be caught. Around the trees,
and out and in among the big boys, he led the chase, much to Tom
Finch's disgust, who had not forgotten the spelling-match incident. Not
that he cared for the defeat, but he still felt the bite in the master's final
words, and he carried a grudge against the boy who had been the
occasion of his humiliation.
"Keep off!" he cried, angrily, as Hughie swung himself round him. But
Hughie paid no heed to Tom's growl, unless, indeed, to repeat his
offense, with the result that, as he flew off, Tom caught him a kick that
hastened his flight and laid him flat on his back amid the laughter of the
boys.
"Tom," said Hughie, gravely and slowly, so that they all stood listening,
"do you know what you kick like?"
The boys stood waiting.
"A h-e-i-p-h-e-r."
In a moment Tom had him by the neck, and after a cuff or two, sent
him flying, with a warning to keep to himself.
But Hughie, with a saucy answer, was off again on his game, circling
as near Tom Finch as he dared, and being as exasperating as possible,
till Tom looked as if he would like a chance to pay him off. The chance
came, for Hughie, leading the "tag," came flying past Tom and toward
the water. Hardly realizing what he was doing, Tom stuck out his foot
and caught him flying past, and before any one knew how it had
happened, poor Hughie shot far out into the Deepole, lighting fair on
his stomach. There was a great shout of laughter, but in a moment
every one was calling, "Swim, Hughie!" "Keep your hands down!"
"Don't splash like that, you fool!" "Paddle underneath!" But Hughie
was far too excited or too stunned by his fall to do anything but splash
and sputter, and sink, and rise again, only to sink once more. In a few
moments the affair became serious.
The small boys began to cry, and some of the bigger ones to undress,
when there was a cry from the elm-tree overhanging the water.
"Run out that board, Don. Quick!"
It was Ranald, who had been swinging up in the highest branches, and
had seen what had happened, and was coming down from limb to limb
like a squirrel. As he spoke, he dropped from the lowest limb into the
water close to where Hughie was splashing wildly.
In an instant, as he rose to the surface, Hughie's arms went round his
neck and pulled his head under water. But he was up again, and tugging
at Hughie's hands, he cried:
"Don't, Hughie! let go! I'll pull you out. Let go!" But Hughie,
half-insensible with terror and with the water he had gulped in, clung
with a death-grip.
"Hughie!" gasped Ranald, "you'll drown us both. Oh, Hughie man, let
me pull you out, can't you?"
Something in the tone caught Hughie's ear, and he loosed his hold, and
Ranald, taking him under the chin, looked round for the board.
By this time Don Cameron was in the water and working the board
slowly toward the gasping boys. But now a new danger threatened. The
current had gradually carried them toward the log jam, under which the
water sucked to the falls below. Once under the jam, no power on earth
could save.
"Hurry up, Don!" called out Ranald, anxiously. Then, feeling Hughie
beginning to clutch again, he added, cheerily,
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