a long way from the person in distress. Then Patsy, always quick-witted
in emergencies, made a dash for the shore where a small boat was drawn up
on the beach.

"Come, Arthur, quick!" she cried to the young man, who was calmly wading
near the beach, and he caught the note of terror in her voice and
hastened to help push the little craft into the water.

"Jump in!" she panted, "and row as hard as you ever rowed in all
your life."

Young Weldon was prompt to obey. He asked no useless questions but,
realizing that someone was in danger, he pulled a strong, steady oar and
let Patsy steer the boat.

The laughter and merry shouts of the bathers, who were all unaware that a
tragedy was developing close at hand, rang in the girl's ears as she
peered eagerly ahead for a sign to guide her. Now she espied Maud
Stanton, far out beyond the others, circling around and diving into this
wave or that as it passed her.

"Whoever it was," she muttered, half aloud, "is surely done for by this
time. Hurry, Arthur! I'm afraid Maud has exhausted all her strength."

But just then Maud dived again and when she reappeared was holding fast
to something dark and inanimate. A moment later the boat swept to her
side and she said:

"Get him aboard, if you can. Don't mind me; I'm all right."