and pulled it to the shore. The pallid face of the man clinging to
the log showed that he was nearly exhausted, and that he had been
rescued in the nick of time. When Alfred reached shoal water he
slipped his arm around the man, who was unable to stand, and carried
him ashore.

The rescued man wore a buckskin hunting shirt and leggins and
moccasins of the same material, all very much the worse for wear.
The leggins were torn into tatters and the moccasins worn through.
His face was pinched with suffering and one arm was bleeding from a
gunshot wound near the shoulder.

"Can you not speak? Who are you?" asked Clarke, supporting the limp
figure.

The man made several efforts to answer, and finally said something
that to Alfred sounded like "Zane," then he fell to the ground
unconscious.

All this time the dog had acted in a most peculiar manner, and if
Alfred had not been so intent on the man he would have noticed the
animal's odd maneuvers. He ran to and fro on the sandy beach; he
scratched up the sand and pebbles, sending them flying in the air;
he made short, furious dashes; he jumped, whirled, and, at last,
crawled close to the motionless figure and licked its hand.

Clarke realized that he would not be able to carry the inanimate
figure, so he hurriedly put on his clothes and set out on a run for
Colonel Zane's house. The first person whom he saw was the old negro
slave, who was brushing one of the Colonel's horses.

Sam was deliberate and took his time about everything. He slowly
looked up and surveyed Clarke with his rolling eyes. He did not
recognize in him any one he had ever seen before, and being of a
sullen and taciturn nature, especially with strangers, he seemed in
no hurry to give the desired information as to Colonel Zane's
whereabouts.

"Don't stare at me that way, you damn nigger," said Clarke, who was
used to being obeyed by negroes. "Quick, you idiot. Where is the
Colonel?"

At that moment Colonel Zane came out of the barn and started to
speak, when Clarke interrupted him.

"Colonel, I have just pulled a man out of the river who says his
name is Zane, or if he did not mean that, he knows you, for he
surely said 'Zane.'"

"What!" ejaculated the Colonel, letting his pipe fall from his
mouth.

Clarke related the circumstances in a few hurried words. Calling Sam
they ran quickly down to the river, where they found the prostrate
figure as Clarke had left it, the dog still crouched close by.