, because though he was not wearing his best clothes,
he was not anxious to wet his "other ones." The extent of his wardrobe
was in keeping with the size of his salary.

And the third channel was so wide and deep that he saw at once it could
not be forded, unless he was willing to plunge above his waist. This
was provoking. Now he realized that he had waited too long. The tide had
been flowing for almost an hour; it had flowed fast and, as he should
have remembered, having been told, the principal channels were eight
feet deep before the highest flats were covered.

He hurried along the edge, looking for a shallower place, but found
none. At last he reached the point of the flat he was on and saw, to
his dismay, that here was the deepest spot yet, a hole, scoured out by a
current like a mill race. Turning, he saw, creeping rapidly and steadily
together over the flat behind him, two lines of foam, one from each
channel. His retreat was cut off.

He was in for a wetting, that was sure. However, there was no help for
it, so he waded in. The water filled his boots there, it gurgled about
his hips, and beyond, as he could see, it seemed to grow deeper and
deeper. The current was surprisingly strong; he found it difficult to
keep his footing in the soft sand. It looked as though he must swim for
it, and to swim in that tide would be no joke.

Then, from behind him, came a hail. He turned and saw moving toward him
through the shallow water now covering the flat beyond the next channel,
the cart he had seen leave the shore by the packet wharf, and, later, on
the outer bar. The horse was jogging along, miniature geysers spouting
beneath its hoofs. The driver waved to him.

"Hold on, mate," he called. "Belay there. Stay where you are. I'll be
alongside in a shake. Git dap, January!"

Ellery waded back to meet this welcome arrival. The horse plunged into
the next channel, surged through it, and emerged dripping. The driver
pulled the animal into a walk.

"Say," he cried, "I'm cruisin' your way; better get aboard, hadn't you?
There's kind of a heavy dew this mornin'. Whoa, Bill!"

"Bill" or "January" stopped with apparent willingness. The driver leaned
down and extended a hand. The minister took it and was pulled up to the
seat.

"Whew!" he panted. "I'm much obliged to you. I guess you saved me from a
ducking, if nothing worse."

"Yes," was the answer, "I wouldn't wonder if I did. This ain't Saturday
night and 'twould b