“I’ll get you out, Sue!  I’ll get you!” cried Bunny.

He ran toward Sue, but before he reached her there was heard a loud barking, and a big, shaggy dog rushed down to the edge of the island.  Right into the water the dog jumped, and, getting hold of Sue’s dress, he pulled her up on the shore.

For a moment Sue lay there, still choking and gasping, while the dog stood over her, wagging his tail, and barking as hard as he could bark.  He seemed to know that everything was all right now.

“Oh, Sue!  Sue!” cried Bunny, rushing up to his sister, and putting his arms around her.  “You aren’t drowned now; are you, Sue?”

“I—­I don’t—­don’t know—­Bun-Bunny!” she stammered.  “I—­I guess I’m ’most drowned, anyhow.  Oh, take me home!  I want my mamma!”

“I’ll take you home right away!” Bunny promised.  “But wasn’t the dog good to pull you out?”

The dog shook the water from himself, and wagged his tail harder than ever.  He jumped about, barking, and then, with his big red tongue, he licked first Sue’s face, and then Bunny’s.

Sue was much better now.  She could sit up, and, as the river water was not salty, as is the water of the ocean, what she had swallowed of it did not hurt her.

“I guess the dog will lick all the Friday-mud off my face,” she said, smiling at Bunny through her tears.

“The mud’s all off anyhow,” said her brother.  “Falling in the river washed you clean.”

“But it got my dress all wet.  I don’t care, it’s an old one.”

“That’s good,” said her brother.  “Now we’ll go home.  Maybe you will be all dry when we get there,” he added hopefully, “and your dress won’t show any wet at all.”

“But I’ll have to tell mother I fell in.”

“Oh, of course!”

“But it was a—­a accident,” Sue said, speaking the big word slowly.  “Now take me home, Bunny.  I don’t want to play Friday any more, and I’m hungry.”

The dog jumped about the children, but he kept nearer to Sue.  Maybe he thought she belonged to him, now that he had pulled her from the water.  Perhaps he had saved Sue’s life, though the little girl might have gotten out herself, or Bunny might have pulled her from the water.

“He’s a nice dog,” said Sue.  “I wish we could keep him.”

“Maybe we can.  He doesn’t seem to belong to anybody, and nobody lives on this island.”

“He was shipwrecked too,” said Sue.  “Or maybe he wanted to play Robinson Crusoe with us.”

“Robinson didn’t have a dog—­anyhow, mother didn’t read about any in the story,” replied Bunny. ’’But he had a goat.”

“We can pretend this dog is a goat,” remarked Sue, as she patted the big shaggy fellow, who barked in delight, and wagged his tail.

“We’ll take him home in the boat with us,” decided Bunny.  “I hope mother lets us keep him.”

Getting into the boat was easy enough for Bunny and Sue, for they only had to step over the side, the boat being partly on shore.  And the dog jumped in after them.  He seemed very glad Indeed that he had found two such nice children to love, and who would love him.