is head going beneath the waves.

Then sounded a splash from the stern of the boat.

"What was that?" cried Captain Bailey.

"Chandler Norton leaped after him!" was the answer.

And it was Bricktop who, in swimming to shore, had been picked up by the
_Cypress_, and who had leaped after Dick when he saw him sink back.
Bricktop had removed most of his heavy clothing and shoes, and was more
prepared than any of the others to attempt a rescue.

It seemed a very long time that both he and Dick were lost to view, but
it was only a few seconds ere Bricktop arose to the surface, one arm
about the unconscious form of the millionaire's son.

"Help me get him aboard!" Bricktop gasped. "I'm afraid something has
happened to him!"

Willing hands were extended to raise the silent form. Then, when the
brave rescuer had been pulled over the stern, all speed was made to
shore, which the other two boys had reached some time since in boats
that picked them up.

Fortunately there was, in the gathering of merrymakers, a physician, who
at once hurried to Dick's side. He carefully examined the youth.

"I'm afraid he inhaled some of the flames," he said, "or he may have
struck his head on something when he went overboard. We must get him
home, and into bed, as soon as possible."

There were several automobiles at the lake front, and in one of these
Dick was taken to the Hamilton mansion at a speed which broke the
law--but no one minded that.

Mr. Hamilton was much startled, but he calmly gave orders to have his
son cared for. Another physician was summoned, and the two worked over
the unconscious form together, while Mr. Hamilton, his face drawn and
white, paced anxiously up and down in the hall outside the room.

Suddenly there sounded the patter of feet on the stairs, and, a moment
later, something was muzzling Mr. Hamilton's legs, while a gentle whine
begged his attention.

"What is it, Grit, old boy?" he asked, huskily, as he reached over and
patted the big bulldog's head. "You know something's wrong, don't you?
Well--maybe it--maybe it will be all right."

The dog whined and sniffed at the door of the room where the unconscious
form of his master lay.

"No--no--not now, Grit, old boy," said Mr. Hamilton, softly, and Grit
with a look as much as to say that he knew what was going on, stretched
out--a grim guardian at the portal of the silent chamber.

Then, from the room, came a voice, at the sound of which the dog gave a