in her already perplexed mind.
He sprang up and glanced at his watch. It was twenty minutes past four.
Every minute had become precious now, and waiting for Peter was of
course not to be thought of. While he loitered ineffectually here,
Coligny Smith, four miles away, might be doing his plans the
irremediable injury. And he started for the cabin swiftly to get his
hat.
But there came an interruption which stopped him short. A quick loud
splashing and sudden cries arose from the water near at hand; and he
divined instantly what had happened. The college professor, like the ass
he was, had upset his canoe.
Varney halted, strode back to the rail. The professor came up
spluttering, blowing quarts of water from his mouth and nose, making
feeble strokes with his ineffective, collegiate arms.
"Help!" he called in a thin watery voice. "Help! I can't swim." Whereon,
he immediately bobbed under again.
Of course, there was nothing to do but accede to that request.
"Lay hold of the canoe," called Varney impatiently, when the poor fellow
reappeared. "I'll send a boat down for you."
There had been no chance of his drowning: for the overturned canoe was
staunch, and floated, a splendid life-belt, not a foot away from him. At
Varney's word, he seized hold of it feebly, with both hands. The crew
were quick. One or two of them had been watching the madman's antics for
some time, it appeared; and they had a boat down and over to him in no
time.
Sopping with water, dripping it from his clothes and his hair and his
brown academic beard, a dazed and pitiable-looking object, he came up
the ladder not without nimbleness, and stepped through the gangway upon
the deck.
Varney took it that his own duties in the matter were now at an end.
"Hold your places," he called to the boat crew. "I shall need you myself
at once."
Then he turned hurriedly to the man he had rescued, who stood silently
on the deck, wringing cups of water from the skirts of his black cutaway
coat.
"I'll have them bring you dry clothes," he said swiftly, "and anything
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