ad helped him. It would have been impossible
for him to have saved the two fast-drowning boys by his own unaided
efforts. Now it was possible.

"Catch hold!" he cried, as he directed one end of the pole to Baldry and
Plunger.

They eagerly gripped it; then, grasping the other end, Paul swam to
shore. It was a strange freight he was towing--two human lives. And his
heart seemed beating like the valve of a steam-tug as he reached the
bank and pulled his freight ashore.

"You're a brick--that's what you are, Percival!" were the first words
that Plunger gasped, as he struggled, with the water dripping from him,
up the bank.

Baldry's eyes had gone to the still figure lying on the grass.

"It's--it's the Camel! What--what's wrong with him?" he asked, as he
stood gazing at the still form. "Is--is he dead?"

"I hope not--I think not," said Paul, as he raised the slight figure in
his arms. "I must leave you fellows to look after yourselves."

So saying, holding Hibbert close to him, he hastened along the road that
led to the school. Once or twice he paused to make sure that Hibbert's
heart was beating. Yes; it was still beating, though feebly: having
reassured himself, he hurried on again with his burden.

The road seemed longer to him than it had ever been before; but at
length he drew near, and his eyes went up to the first thing that a
Garside boy usually looked to--the old flag.

He could scarcely believe his eyes. Were they mocking him, or was he
under a delusion? The flag did not seem to be flying there.

"My eyes are playing tricks with me," he thought as he hurried
breathless into the grounds.

A few steps more and he met Stanley. He stopped and regarded Paul with
surprise. He advanced a step, as though with the intention of speaking
to him, but quickly changing his mind, went on his way. Paul clenched
his teeth hard and staggered on with his burden. Luckily it was only a
light one.

Reaching the schoolhouse door, he met Waterman coming from it.

"Percival! What are you fagging with there?" For once Waterman was
genuinely roused. "An accident? Why, it's young Hibbert. What's
happened?"

"He's had a ducking in the river. Run for Dr. Clack--as quickly as you
can."

Waterman needed no second bidding. His natural indolence of manner,
under which was hidden much more energy than people gave him credit for,
vanished on the instant. He darted off at the top of his speed. Paul did
not relinquish his burden t