s you air gittin' yer fill-up of it, Niece Ruth," growled the
miller, with a sound in his throat that might have been a chuckle. "Look
out, now! ye'll hev us over."

Ruth knew very well she had done nothing to give the boat that sudden
jerk. It was the current; but she had no breath with which to argue the
matter.

On and on they pulled, while the sinking sun gilded the little wavelets,
and bathed both river and the shores in golden glory. A homing bird
shrieked a shrill "good-night," as it passed above them, flying from
shore to shore.

Now the northern shore was nearer than the landing they had left. Only
occasionally Ruth turned her head, for she needed her full attention
upon the oar which she managed with such difficulty.

"We gotter p'int up-stream," growled Uncle Jabez, after wringing his
neck around again to spy out the landing near Lakeby's store. "Pesky
current's kerried us too fur down."

He gave a mighty pull to his own oar to rehead the boat. It was a
perilous move, and in a perilous place. Here the water ran, troubled and
white-capped, over a hidden reef.

"Oh! do be careful, Uncle!" cried Ruth.

"Pull!" yelled the old man, in return.

By chance he sunk his own oar-blade so deeply, that it rubbed against
the reef. It lifted Uncle Jabez from his seat, and unbalanced the boat.

Like a flash the heavy oar flew out of its socket, and the old man
sprawled on his back in the bottom of the boat. The latter whirled
around in the current, and before Ruth could scream, even, it crashed
broadside upon the rock!

The rotting planks of the boat could not stand such a blow. Ruth saw the
plank cave in, and the water followed. Down the boat settled upon the
submerged part of the rock--a hopeless wreck!

This was not the worst of the accident. In seeking to recover his seat,
Uncle Jabez went overboard, as the old boat tipped. He dove into the
shallow water, and struck his head heavily on the reef.

Blood-stained bubbles rose to the surface, and the old man struggled
only feebly to rise.

"He is hurt! he will be drowned!" gasped Ruth, and seeing him so
helpless, she sprang nimbly over the canted side of the boat and sought
to draw her uncle's head out of the water.

Although she was a good swimmer, and was not afraid of the water, the
current was so swift, and her own footing so unstable, it was doubtful
if Ruth Fielding could save both the miller and herself from the peril
that menaced them.

CHAP