overed
something.

"Why! the boat isn't empty!" she cried.

"You're right, Ruth! I see something in it," said Tom.

Uncle Jabez straightened up, holding the painter doubtfully.

"Aw, well," he grunted. "If there's somebody in it----"

He saw no reason for going after the drifting boat if it were manned. He
could not claim the boat or claim salvage for it under such
circumstances.

But the strange boat was drifting toward the rapids of the Lumano that
began just below the mill. In the present state of the river this "white
water," as lumbermen call it, was dangerous.

"Why, how foolish!" Helen cried. "Whoever is in that boat is lying in
the bottom of it."

"And drifting right toward the middle of the river!" added her twin.

"Hurry up, Uncle Jabez!" urged Ruth. "We must go out there."

"What fur, I'd like to know?" demanded the miller sharply. "We ain't
hired ter go out an' wake up every reckless fule that goes driftin' by."

"Of course not. But maybe he's not asleep," Ruth said quickly. "Maybe
he's hurt. Maybe he has fainted. Why, a dozen things might have
happened!"

"An' a dozen things might _not_ have happened," said old Jabez Potter,
coolly retying the painter.

"Uncle! we mustn't do that!" cried his niece. "We must go out in the
punt and make sure all is right with that boat."

"Who says so?" demanded the miller.

"Of course we must. I'll go with you. Come, do! There is somebody in
danger."

Ruth Fielding, as she spoke, leaped into the punt. Tom would have been
glad to go with her, but she had motioned him back before he could
speak. She was ashamed to have the miller so display the mean side of
his nature before her friends.

Grumblingly he climbed into the heavy boat after her. Tom cast off and
Ruth pushed the boat's nose upstream, then settled herself to one of the
oars while Uncle Jabez took the other.

"Huh! they ain't anything in it for us," grumbled Mr. Potter as the punt
slanted toward mid-stream.

CHAPTER II

MAGGIE

Ruth Fielding knew very well the treacherous current of the Lumano. She
saw that the drifting boat with its single occupant was very near to the
point where the fierce pull of the mid-stream current would seize it.

So she rowed her best and having the stroke oar, Uncle Jabez was obliged
to pull _his_ best to keep up with her.

"Huh!" he snorted, "it ain't so pertic'lar, is it, Niece Ruth? That
feller----"

She made no reply, but in a few minutes they w