“Hang on like fury, you two girls!” he shouted to Marjorie and Molly, and then he made a dive for Kitty.

King was a good swimmer, but, hampered by his clothing, and frightened terribly by Kitty’s disappearance, he could not do himself justice.  But he caught hold of Kitty’s dress, and by good fortune both rose to the surface.  King grabbed for the boat, but it slipped away from him, and the pair went down again.

At this Marjorie screamed.  She had been trying to be brave, yet the sight of her brother and sister being, as she feared, drowned, was too much for her.

“Hush up, Marjorie!” cried Molly.  “You just keep still and hang on!  I can swim!”

With an eel-like agility Molly let go of the boat, and darted through the water.  She was really a good swimmer, and her thin, muscular little limbs struck out frantically in all directions.  Diving swiftly, she bumped against Kitty, and grasping her arm firmly, she began to tread water rapidly.  As King was doing this on the other side of Kitty, the three shot up to the surface, and King and Molly grasped the boat with firm hands, holding Kitty between them.

Kitty was limp, but conscious; and though King was exhausted, he held on to Kitty, and held on to the boat, with a desperate grip.

“Wait a minute, girls,” he gasped, sputtering and stammering; “I’ll be all right in a minute.  Now as long as you hold fast to the boat, you know you can’t drown!  How are you getting along, Mops?”

“All right,” called Marjorie from the other side of the boat; “but I want to come over there by you.”

“Don’t you do it!  You stay there and balance the boat.  It’s lucky you’re a heavyweight!  Now you girls do exactly as I tell you to.”

King did not mean to be dictatorial, but he was getting his breath back, and he knew that although their heads were above water, still strenuous measures were necessary.

“What shall we do?” shouted Marjorie.

“Well, we must try to get this boat to shore.  And as we’re much nearer the other shore than our own side, we’ll try to get it over there, for we don’t want to cross the river.  Now hang on tight, and wiggle your feet like paddles.  If you kick out hard enough, I think we can get the old thing ashore.”

It wasn’t an easy task, nor a quick one, but after a while, by vigorous kicking, in accordance with King’s continued directions, they did succeed in reaching shallow water.

“Now we can walk,” said King, “but we may as well hang on to the boat and not let her drift away.”

So half scrambling, half crawling, the children pushed through the shallow water and up on to the shore, dragging the upturned boat with them.  The shore just here was shelving and sandy, otherwise it is doubtful if they could have reached it at all.  But at last four shivering, dripping children stood on solid ground, and looked at each other.

“You’re an old trump, King,” cried Marjorie, flinging her arms around her brother’s neck, and kissing his wet cheeks; “you’re a hero, and a life-saver, and a Victoria Cross, and everything!”