Elder Jones made a wild grab at the girl just as she leaped over the rail, but he failed to catch hold of her.

“Merciful goodness!”

He gasped the words as she struck the water like a professional diver and disappeared from view.

Then he ran frantically about, hoarsely shouting:

“Stop the boat! Stop the boat!”

Frank Merriwell was astounded by this rash act of the handsome girl, but barely had she disappeared beneath the surface of the lake when he began to tear off his outer clothing with a haste that indicated his purpose.

As Frank tugged at his shoes he saw the girl come to the surface, and, hampered by clothing though she was, strike out toward the little dog, which was trying to swim toward her.

Wildly waving his arms, the ministerial young man shouted:

“Hilda! Hilda! Stop the boat! Hilda, swim this way! She will be drowned!”

Not a word did Frank Merriwell say, but with one bound he shot into the air and plunged out over the stern rail of the steamer, his body making a graceful curve in the air and plunging head downward into the white water.

Merry quickly came to the surface, and started swimming[118] after the girl, who was still paddling toward the little dog, although it was plain that her clothing greatly impeded her progress.

She did not look back, but kept straight on toward her imperiled pet, her one determination seeming to be to save him or perish with him. Her handsome and costly hat had been torn from her head as she struck the water, and she was swimming with her head bare, her dark hair seeming blacker than ever now that it was wet.

Merry struck out with powerful strokes, hearing a sudden tooting of the steamboat whistle, which told him that the pilot knew what had happened.

He grew to admire the girl more and more as he watched her, for he could see that, were it not for her clothing, she was a very good swimmer.

“She is either foolish or fearless,” he decided. “I do not think it is the former, and she has a face that indicates fearlessness.”

Behind Frank and the girl the little steamer was slowing down, while men were running about on her, shouting and throwing life preservers overboard.

It was a scene of great excitement, but still the strange girl swam on toward her dog, without once turning to look back.

Nearer and nearer to her Merriwell drew, forging through the water as rapidly as he could, and feeling that his progress was far too slow.

He saw that she would reach the dog before he could reach her, and this was what happened, but he was close[119] to her as she came near enough to touch the whining little fellow.

“Good Jack—dear boy!” she called, encouragingly. “Keep up, Jack! They’ll get us out!”

Then, having reached the little fellow, she turned about and saw Frank Merriwell close at hand. She did not seem in the least alarmed, but a smile of pleasure crossed her face, and then she laughed outright.

“Dear me?” she exclaimed. “What made you?”

“I am here to assist you, miss,” said Frank; “but you are a wonderfully good swimmer. Your clothes will become heavy soon, and I shall find it a pleasure to help you keep up till the steamer comes to our rescue.”

“But you are a stranger, and——”

“Do you think we really need an introduction now?” smiled Merry.

“No; but I had no right to expect this of you—don’t be frightened, Jack—Elder Jones should have been the one; but it is plain he is a physical coward, no matter what he is morally.”

Her lips curled a bit as she spoke of the man who had been her companion on the boat, making it plain she entertained a feeling of loathing for him.

“Can I help you now in any way?” asked Frank. “You swam so hard to reach your dog that it must have taken your breath and strength.”

“I don’t need any help just now,” she said: “but if you will aid Jack to keep up, poor little fellow!”

Then Frank took the dog, placed him on his shoulders,[120] and paddled along in that way, with the animal crouching on his head and shoulders.

The girl laughed. It was the same bewitching laugh that had so attracted Merriwell on the boat.

“You can’t imagine how funny you look!” she said.

“This is the latest style of headgear for gentlemen,” Frank laughed back. “It is a dog-gone good thing.”

“Oh, what a horrid pun!” exclaimed the strange girl. “If you make puns, I shall be sorry you jumped over to help me.”

“But if I do not make puns—what then? Will you know me after the boat is reached?”

“I trust, sir, you do not think me utterly devoid of any sense of gratitude? It was so good of you, an entire stranger, to do such a thing.”

“Oh, it was nothing. You are beginning to find it difficult to keep up. Your wet clothing is dragging on you now.”

“I can keep up till they reach us. They have stopped the boat—they are turning.”

But Frank could see that her desperate exertion to reach the dog had exhausted her more than she thought at first, and her wet skirts were winding about her ankles and hampering the movements of her lower limbs, making it very difficult for her to swim.

Now that Frank was so close to her and she had been deprived of her hat, which might have added to her attractiveness, he could see tha............