ger in which he
stood himself. At any moment the skiff might shoot towards him. He
turned and was about to strike away when a dark object appeared within
a few yards of him down stream.

It looked like a head, and Jack struck out for it. He swam in silence,
and within half a dozen strokes had a man by the hair. He turned the
face up to the starlight and saw that it was Jim Dent, and that the
gunsmith appeared to be unconscious. Taking a firmer grip of Jim's
hair, Jack struck out down stream and swam as fast as he could towards
the approaching light, which was now much bigger and brighter. He had
turned on his side to swim, and looked back now and again as he rose
to his stroke. To his horror he saw the long, dark line which marked
the skiff begin to move swiftly after him. It was difficult to swim in
silence and support Jim. His splashes had marked them out to the
murderers, and they were hastening to beat him and his helpless
companion under before help could arrive.

Jack marked the approaching light and lashed out more fiercely than
ever. Unencumbered by Jim Dent, he would have had ten times as good a
chance of escaping from the human tigers who pursued him, but of
abandoning Jim, the gallant lad had never thought for a moment. Like a
snake darting over the water, the skiff was upon them, and a figure in
the bow raised an oar to strike at Jack's head. Lifting himself high
out of the water with a tremendous stroke, Jack yelled, "Help! help!"
at the top of his voice. The oar fell, but the man had been flurried
by that sudden wild cry at his feet, and it missed its mark. Again he
raised it and struck. Jack had turned on his back, and as the oar
fell, he raised his hand, met the stroke, turned it aside, gripped the
blade, and hung on desperately. The figure gave a muttered cry and
strove to draw the oar back.

But now a warning murmur arose among his companions. The light was
coming on at great speed. Jack's cry had been heard, and the vessel
was rushing swiftly up to the place. The men in the skiff knew well
now what vessel it was, and their only thought was of instant flight.
The oar was abandoned, the skiff was turned round, and away it darted
into the gloom which overhung the mid-stream. A moment later, a police
launch, with its brightly-burning lamp, and two Sikh policemen aboard,
shot up to the spot where Jack clung to the oar and to his comrade.

In an instant the two were drawn into the vessel and Jack was te