The sun’s last beams shone straight up the lower arm of the bend.  On the upper bayed Charmer and Dandy, unseen.  On the lower we heard the younger pair.  On the upper we saw only the clear waters crinkling in a wide shallow over a gravel-bar, but down-stream we instantly discovered Luke and his wife.  Silhouetted against the level sunlight, heaving forward with arms upthrown, waist deep in the main current, they were more than half-way across.  At that moment two small dark objects, the two dogs, moved out from the shore, after them, each with its wake of two long silvery ripples.  The “puppy” was leading.

With a curse their master threw the horn to his lips and blew an imperious note.  The rear dog turned his head and would have reversed his course, but seeing his leader keep on he kept on with him.  Again the angry horn re-echoed, and the rear dog promptly turned back though the other swam on.

Rebecca threw a look behind and it was pitiful to hear her outcry of despair and terror.  But Luke faced about and, backing after her through the flood, prepared to meet the hound naked-handed.  Hardy sprang to his tiptoes in the stirrups, his curses pealing across the water.  “If you hurt that dog,” he yelled, “I’ll shoot you dead!”

Up-stream the other two runaways were out on the gravel-bar, Euonymus behind Robelia and Robelia splashing ludicrously across the shoal, tearing off and kicking off—­in preparation for deep water—­sunbonnet, skirt, waist, petticoat, and howling in the self-concern of abject cowardice.

“Thank heaven, she’s a swimmer,” thought I, “and won’t drown her brother!” For only a swimmer ever cast off garments that way.

The flight of Euonymus, too, was bare-headed and swift, but it was unfrenzied and silent.  Neither of them saw Luke or Rebecca; the sun was in their eyes and at that instant Charmer and Dandy, having met some momentary delay, once more bayed joyously and sprang into view.  Like Luke, Euonymus faced the brutes.  With another fierce outcry Hardy blew his recall of all the four dogs.

Three turned at once but the youngster launched himself at Luke’s throat where he stood breast-high in the glassing current.  The slave caught the dog’s whole windpipe in both hands and went with him under the flood.  Hardy’s supreme care for Charmer had lost him the strategic moment, but he fired straight at Rebecca.

She did not fall and his weapon flew up for a second shot! but by some sheer luck I knocked the pistol spinning yards away into the river.  While it spun I saw other things:  Rebecca clasping a wounded arm; Luke and the dog reappearing apart, the dog about to repeat his onset; and Hardy dumb with rage.

“Call the puppy!” I cried, “you’ll save him yet.”

The master winded his horn, and the dog swam our way.  At the same time his fellows came about us, while on the farther bank Luke helped his wife writhe up through the waterside vines, and with her disappeared.  Only Euonymus remained in the water, at the far edge of the gravel-bar.