yal
Humane Society. His first question, as he entered, was for the boy.

"He will do, sir," the attendant answered, "we popped him at once into
a hot bath we had ready, and he has opened his eyes, and is able to
speak; we have just got him into bed between warm blankets, and now it's
your turn."

In another minute Frank was in the bath from which the boy had just been
taken, for there was no time to prepare another. For the first minute or
two he felt an intense pain as the blood flowed back into his chilled
limbs, then a delightful sensation of warmth and comfort stole over him;
a glass of hot brandy and water completed his cure, and a few minutes
later he felt that he was fast going off to sleep in the warm blankets
between which he was laid.

Before the crowd whom the incident on the Serpentine had gathered broke
up, one or two of those present went among the rest and collected a
subscription for the lad who had gone in after the dog. Nearly two
pounds were collected in silver and coppers, and handed over to the
cripple to give to his brother. Fred Barkley dropped in five shillings,
and Alice Hardy the same sum. Then after walking to the receiving-house,
and hearing that Frank and the lad had both recovered from the effects
of the cold, and would probably be all right after a few hours' sleep,
they returned home, Alice in a high state of excitement over the
adventure which she had witnessed, Fred silent and gloomy.

He accompanied Alice to Eaton Square, and was present when she related
to her uncle the story of the lad going in to rescue the dog, and of
Frank going in to rescue the boy, and of his afterwards returning to set
free the dog. Upon the way home he had appeared to Alice to take the
matter exceedingly quietly, but he now, somewhat to her surprise,
appeared almost as enthusiastic as herself, and spoke in terms of high
admiration of Frank's conduct. Captain Bayley, as was usually the case
with him, took a view of the matter entirely opposed to that of the
speakers.

"Stuff and nonsense!" he said. "You call that a gallant action? I call
it a foolish boy's trick. What right has Frank to risk getting rheumatic
fever, and being laid up as a cripple for life, merely to save a dog?"

"But he went in to save a boy, uncle," Alice said indignantly.

"Pooh, pooh!" the old officer exclaimed, "the boy would never have gone
in if he hadn't encouraged him. That makes the case all the worse. Frank
not only risking c