viciously as he helped to thrust me outward over the wooden bar. The
next instant I fell, the sneering cackle of Kirby's laugh of triumph
echoing in my ears until drowned in the splash as I struck the black
water below.

I came back to the surface dazed and weakened, yet sufficiently
conscious to make an intelligent struggle for life. The over-hang of
the rapidly passing boat still concealed me from the observation of
those above on the deck, and the advantage of permitting them to
believe that the blow on my head had resulted in drowning, together
with the knowledge that I must swiftly get beyond the stroke of that
deadly wheel, flashed instantly through my brain. It was like a tonic,
reviving every energy. Waiting only to inhale one deep breath of air,
I plunged back once more into the depths, and swam strongly under
water. The effort proved successful, for when I again ventured to
emerge, gasping and exhausted, the little _Warrior_ had swept past, and
become merely a shapeless outline, barely visible above the surface at
the river. Even if the two men had rushed to the stern, seeking thus
to ascertain what had happened to their victim, they could not have
detected my presence in that darkness, or determined whether or not I
had met death in the depths, or been crushed lifeless by those
revolving paddles.

Slowly treading water, my lips held barely above the surface, I drew in
deep draughts of cool night air, my mind becoming more active as hope
returned. The blow I had received was a savage one, and pained dully,
but the cold water in which I had been immersed had caused the bleeding
to cease, and likewise revived all my faculties. The water was so icy,
still fed by the winter snow of the north, as to make me conscious of
chill, and awaken within me a fear of cramps. The steamer melted