with all his strength and speed. At intervals he
had paused to answer and to listen--and the now swiftly dispersing fog
enabled him also to see--and finally to utter a little malediction under
his breath. It scarcely needed the glass he raised to show him the
"Digby Chicken" riding quietly on the water not more than half a league
off shore. Her sail was furled, she looked taut and trim, and he could
discern a figure at her prow which raised its arms and again hallooed.

"All's well that ends well." But it might not have been so well. The
full story of that night's work did not transpire at once. All that Mrs.
Stark knew was that she had her son once more within her close embrace;
that he had been helped, even carried, up the narrow pier and placed
dripping within her arms. She ascribed his soaked condition to the fact
of the fog and not to the truth; and it was not until daylight came that
he told her that. Then lying warm in his bed, with her hovering over him
in a flutter of delight and reproof, he announced:

"I tell you, Mamma, the only folks that amount to anything in this world
are the poor ones!"

"Very likely, love, very likely. Only don't distress yourself any more.
I can't forgive that wretched little bugling boy for taking you out in
that horrible boat and nearly killing you. You're very apt to have
pneumonia or something--Don't you feel pretty ill now?"

"Mamma, _you can't forgive him?_ What do you mean? Didn't anybody tell?"

"Tell what, lovey. I certainly didn't stop to ask questions. All I cared
for was to get you into bed and a warm breakfast or supper or whatever
it is sent up."

"Then you don't know that but for Melvin Cook I should be lying at the
bottom of the Basin now, instead of in this bed?" demanded Monty,
raising himself on his elbow.

The pallor that overspread his mother's face was answer enough, and he
blamed himself for the question. Even without knowing the worst truth
she had evidently worried herself ill. But the mischief was done and
when she asked: "What do you mean?" he thought it best to tell. Moreover
he was anxious that she should know of Melvin's bravery at once. So he
answered:

"Well, I made a fool of myself. He had tackle and we fished along, just
for nothing hardly, and I got cocky and jiggled the boat. Then when he
said I'd better not but ought to lend a hand in working her and 'learn
sense,' I--Well, I don't remember exactly what happened after that; only
I got up o