"I can't understand it," Phil mused, as the soft evening breezes lulledhim into slumber.

　　"What! What!" he cried suddenly. "What is it? I'm falling!"The deck of the "Marie" all at once seemed to have dropped frombeneath him. He felt himself falling through space. What could itmean?

　　With the showman's instinct the Circus Boy quickly turned his body,spread out his hands and righted himself.

　　The night was black, and as yet he had not succeeded in collecting hissenses sufficiently to decide what had happened. He knew that he wasfalling, but that was all.

　　There was a sudden splash as his body struck the water. Phil shotright down beneath it and the waters of the Mississippi closed over him.

　　He understood then what had happened, but not for an instant did helose his presence of mind. Phil had caught his breath as his feet touchedthe water, and now that he had sunk beneath the surface he began to kickvigorously and work his hands to check his downward course.

　　A moment of this and he felt himself rising toward the surface. Philwas as good a swimmer as he was a performer in the circus ring, and hefelt no nervousness, even though his position at that moment was aperilous one.

　　Almost at once he felt his head above the surface of the river, but hiseyes were so full of muddy water that he could see nothing at all. Insteadof trying to swim, Phil lay over on his back, floated and began blinkingindustriously to get the water out of his eyes. He soon found that hecould see once more, though at that moment there was nothing to be seenin the blackness of the night.

　　"There's the 'Marie,'" he cried. Phil raised his voice in a good lustyhowl for help, but none heard him. He could see the lights of thesteamboat and they appeared to be far away.

　　"There is only one thing left for me to do, and that is to strike out forthe shore. I wonder which way the shore is?"Once more he raised himself in the water, for an instant, and gazedtoward the rapidly disappearing lights of the 'Marie.'

　　"She is going downstream, so if I swim to the left I should reach shoreafter a while," decided the lad.

　　He did not know that the boat had in the meantime made a sharp turnto her right and that in turning to the left he would be swimmingdownstream, making his attempt to reach shore a difficult one indeed.

　　The lad struck out manfully, swimming with long, easy strokes, aidedconsiderably by the current which was sweeping him downstream muchfaster than he thought.

　　"I'm glad I have only my pajamas on," decided the lad. "If I had allmy clothes on I fear I should have a pretty tough fight. It's bad enough asit is."Talking to himself, in order to keep up his courage, he swam steadilyon, now and then pausing to swim on his back to rest himself. He hadgone on for nearly an hour when the lad began to wonder why he had notreached shore.

　　"Surely the river cannot be so wide at this point. I must have drifteddownstream considerably. Perhaps I haven't been going in the rightdirection at all."He tried to find out which way the drift was, in order to make up hismind as to the direction in which the shore lay. In the darkness, however,he was unable to determine this, so he began swimming again, trusting toluck to land him on something solid, sooner or later. He knew that thismust occur, but whether his strength would hold out that long he could notsay.

　　All at once he caught a peculiar drumming sound. It reminded himof a partridge that he had once heard in the woods, but it seemed a longway off and he could not identify it.

　　"I guess it must be my heart, up somewhere near my mouth, that Ihear," said the boy with a short mindless laugh. "Maybe I am going topieces. If I am I deserve to drown."About that time Phil decided to turn over on his back and rest for amoment.

　　The instant he did so he uttered a sharp exclamation. His eyes caughtsight of something that he had not seen before. It looked to him likesome giant shadow, from which twinkled hundreds of lights.

　　"It is the 'Marie'!" cried the boy. "They are coming back for me.

　　No, no, it cannot be the 'Marie,' for this boat is coming from the oppositedirection. Yes, it surely is a steamboat!"Though Phil did not know it, this was one of the big river packetsbound down the river from St. Louis.

　　"I must get out of the way, or they will run me down, but I want tokeep close enough so I can hail them. I hope this is where I get onsomething solid again."A few minutes of steady swimming appeared to have taken him out ofthe path of the river boat. Then Phil rested, lying on his back, watchingthe boat narrowly.

　　"In almost any other position or place, I might think that was a prettysight. As matters stand, now, it looks dangerous to me."His position was more perilous at that moment than he even dreamed.

　　"H-e-l-p! H-e-l-p!" called Phil, in what he thought was a loud tone.

　　There were no indications that his cry had been heard by those onboard the steamboat. He tried it again, but with no better success thanbefore.

　　"I have simply got to keep on yelling my lungs out until I attract theirattention. I am afraid I shall never reach shore unless I am picked up. Imight be able to keep afloat until daylight, but I doubt it. I shall get sochilled, before then, that I shall have to give up. I've got some fight leftin me yet, just the same.""A-h-o-y, boat! _Help!_"On came the steamer, steadily.

　　Suddenly Phil discovered something else. She had changed hercourse. The boat seemed to be drawing away from him! His heartsank, but almost at once, the boat turned again, following the tortuouschannel of the stream.

　　She now was sweeping almost directly down upon him. He heardsome call on the upper deck.

　　"They are going to run me down!" he gasped.

　　Phil threw all his strength into an effort to swim out of the path of theswiftly moving boat, but he feared he would not be able to clear her.

　　The lad uttered a loud shout, then dived deep, coming up at once onlyto find himself almost against the side of the moving craft.

　　He grabbed frantically, hoping that his hands might come in contactwith some projection to which he could cling, but the slippery sides of thehull slid past him at what seemed almost express train speed.

　　He was almost on the point of diving again to get away from thedangerous spot, when suddenly, his fingers closed over something. It wasa rope, one of the hawsers that had not been fully hauled in when the boatleft the last landing place some miles up the river.

　　With a glad cry, both the lad's hands closed over the precious rope.