Mr. Morton, fortunately knew how to act in such emergencies.  By the use of the proper remedies, he was fortunately brought to himself, and his preserver offered to accompany him home.  John still felt giddy, and was glad to accept Mr. Morton’s offer.  He knew that his father would be angry with him for having the boat fitted up without his knowledge, especially as he had directed Mr. Plane to charge it to his father’s account.  Supposing that Squire Haynes approved, the carpenter made no objections to doing so.  But even the apprehension of his father’s anger was swallowed up by the thought of the great peril from which he had just escaped, and the discomfort of the wet clothes which he had on.

Mr. Morton, too, was completely wet through, with the exception of his coat, and but for John’s apparent inability to go home alone, would at once have returned to his boarding-house to exchange his wet clothes for dry ones.

It so happened that Squire Haynes was sitting at a front window, and saw Mr. Morton and his son as they entered the gate and came up the graveled walk.  He had never met Mr. Morton, and was surprised now at seeing him in John’s company.  He had conceived a feeling of dislike to the young man, for which he could not account, while at the same time he felt a strong curiosity to know more of him.

When they came nearer, he perceived the drenched garments, and went to the door himself to admit them.

“What’s the matter, John?” he demanded hastily, with a contraction of the eyebrows.

“I’m wet!” said John shortly.

“It is easy to see that.  But how came you so wet?”

“I’ve been in the river,” answered John, who did not seem disposed to volunteer any particulars of his adventure.

“How came you there?”

“Your son’s boat capsized,” explained Mr. Morton; “and, as you will judge from my appearance, I jumped in after him.  I should advise him to change his clothing, or he will be likely to take cold.”

Squire Haynes looked puzzled.

“I don’t see how a large rowboat like his could capsize,” he said; “he must have been very careless.”

“It was a sailboat,” explained John, rather reluctantly.

“A sailboat!  Whose?”

“Mine.”

“I don’t understand at all.”

“I had a mast put in, and a sail rigged up, two or three days since,” said John, compelled at last to explain.

“Why did you do this without my permission?” demanded the squire angrily.

“Perhaps,” said Mr. Morton quietly, “it will be better to postpone inquiries until your son has changed his clothes.

Squire Haynes, though somewhat irritated by this interference, bethought himself that it would be churlish not to thank his son’s preserver.

“I am indebted to you, sir,” he said, “for your agency in saving the life of this rash boy.  I regret that you should have got wet.”