that he was with you.
What shall we do?'

Well might Mr. Chilcote's heart fail, for his home was flooded all
round, and in danger of collapsing altogether.

The mother of the little lad gave a cry of bitter distress, a cry which
went to Tom's very heart. 'My Phil! my little Phil!' was all she
moaned.

'Do you mean to say it's little Phil Chilcote in danger?' shouted Tom,
his mind reverting to the only 'Phil' he knew.

'Yes,' was the reply from several voices.

'Then I will save him if mortal man can,' was the plucky response.

'But his window is out of reach, and the stairs are under water by this
time,' said the poor mother, despairingly.

Then a brilliant thought struck Tom, and he told it at once to Mr.
Chilcote. The result was that in a few moments Tom, with his stilts on
either side of him, was being rowed by trusty oarsmen, one of whom was
Mr. Chilcote himself, to the Manor House.

'That's the window, my man,' said Mr. Chilcote, when they reached the
house; 'do you think you can manage it?'

'Aye, aye, sir,' was the reply. 'Don't you fear!'

But it was a more difficult task than even Tom Venner expected. However,
his stilts were soon in working order, and whilst the watchers held
their breath for fear, the man accomplished his task. Smashing a pane of
glass, he roused the little sleeper, who, owing to the terrible mistake
of a well-nigh distraught maid, had been left alone in the Manor House.

A frightened cry came from poor Phil's lips at the sound of the breaking
glass. In a few words, however, the man calmed his fears, and explained
what had happened. In another moment, little Phil was out of bed, and
the window was unfastened by his trembling fingers.

'Have you got a bit of cord handy?' asked Tom Venner of the child.

'Yes; nurse's box-cord is here,' was the reply; 'I use it for my reins.'

'Oh, well, that will do--give it me, quick.'

Tom steadied himself on his stilts as firmly as he could, and then came
the difficult task of bringing down the little lad. How he did it Tom
could scarcely tell you himself, but certain it is that a few minutes
later Phil was safe in his father's arms.

* * * * *

'I say, I am awfully sorry I talked all that rot about--about
ingratitude, you know.' So said Dick Chilcote, looking with shamed eyes
into Tom Venner's face.

'All right, young master, don't bother your head about that,' was the
reply; 'it was a little mistake, th