pproached the water, they saw
a party of children playing carelessly in a boat, and a moment later
a little girl fell overboard. The boat was in motion toward the shore,
and when she rose it had passed beyond her reach. Her companions gave
way to wild panic, and, instead of trying to save her, screamed and
pulled for land. No one was present except nurses and other children,
and they all joined in the wild, helpless chorus of alarm, and began a
stampede toward the hotel.

Madge saw that if the child was saved she must act promptly and
wisely. To the Muir children she said, authoritatively, "Sit down
where you are and don't move." Then she rushed forward and unfastened
a skiff. As she did so the child rose for the last time and sunk again
with a gurgling cry. Keeping her eyes fixed on the spot, and with an
oar in her hand, Madge pushed away from the shore vigorously with her
feet, and with the impetus sprang upon the narrow stern-sheets, then
crept forward toward the bow, at the same time ever keeping her eyes
fixed unwaveringly on the spot where the child had sunk, from which
widening circles were eddying. The nurses and children who had not
started for the house, seeing that a rescue was attempted, looked on
with breathless dread and suspense.

When the impetus that Madge had first given to the skiff ceased, she
kept the little craft in motion by paddling, first on one side, then
on the other, her eyes still fixed on one point in the dark water.
At last this point seemed almost beneath her; she dropped the oar,
stooped, and peered over the side of the boat. After a moment's
hesitation she appeared to those on shore to have lost her balance,
fallen overboard, and sunk. Renewed screams of terror resounded,
and the Muir children fled toward the hotel, crying, "Aunt Madge is
drowned."

"What do you mean?" Graydon gasped, seizing Harry by the arm.

"Oh, Uncle Graydon! run quick. Aunt Madge fell out of a boat under
water."

A moment later he saw the young girl rise to the surface with a child
in her grasp. With one headlong plunge, and a few strong strokes, he
was at her side, exclaiming, "Great God, Madge! what does this mean?"

"Take her to the shore, quick; no matter about me;" and she pushed the
limp and apparently lifeless form into his arms.

"But, Madge--" he began.

"Haste! haste! and the child may be saved. Don't think of me; I can
swim as well as you;" and she struck out toward the shore.

Wondering and