ts was carrying him towards shore.
He had gained the "back-set," and, though its direction was rather up
along the bank, than in towards it, the swimmer had still strength
enough left to overcome this difficulty.

A tree, growing straight out from the bank, overhung the stream, so that
Glen at length drifted under it, and caught hold of a drooping branch.
He had not strength enough to pull himself up; but it was not needed.
With the activity that comes from a life spent in the open air, the
engineer had run out on the horizontal trunk, and now, lying flat on it,
he could just reach the boy's hand. In another minute the strong arms
had drawn Glen up to a secure resting-place, where he might regain his
breath and drip to his heart's content.

"Here are the plans, Mr. Hobart," he said, shyly, and at the same time
proudly. "I hope they are not spoiled by the water. I held them out of
it as much as I could."

"I hope you are not spoiled by the water, Glen Matherson," laughed the
engineer, as he took the wet roll from the boy's hand. "You have done
splendidly, and I am sincerely grateful to you for rescuing my plans,
which are indeed of great value. At the same time I wouldn't do such a
thing again, if I were you, for anything less important than the saving
of life. It was a big risk to take, and I should have suffered a
life-long sorrow if anything had gone wrong with you."

Although it was a warm June day, and Glen laughed at the idea of
catching cold, he had been in the water long enough to be thoroughly
chilled. So, when they regained the bank, Mr. Hobart insisted that he
should take off his clothes, wring them, and let them dry in the hot
sun. In the meantime a workman had come down from the bridge with the
boy's hat, jacket, and shoes. He lent him his overalls, and, thus
comically arrayed, Glen sat and talked with the engineer while his
clothes were drying.

How kindly the brown-bearded face was, and with what interest the man
listened to all the boy had to say. How pleasant was his voice, and, in
spite of his age (he was about thirty-five) and wisdom, how easy it was
to talk to him! It was so easy, and he proved such a sympathetic
listener, that before Glen knew it he found himself confiding all his
troubles and hopes and perplexities to this new friend. It began with
his name, which he told the engineer was not Matherson, and then he had
to explain why it was not.

Then they wondered together what sort of a man