which he now
tried to elbow his way through the crowd.

"An English boy! Shame that he should show his face among us," said
Blair in his excitement.

"We'll give him a taste of salt water," said two or three of the oldest
boys as they seized the stranger roughly by the shoulders. "We'll teach
him to mend his manners."

"Stop, stop, boys. Give him fair play," shouted Blair; but Blair was no
longer the object of attention.

The English boy, in spite of his struggles, was hurried to the edge of
the wharf, and pushed relentlessly over the brink.

A thorough ducking to him, and the scattering of his precious basket of
clothes, was all that the young rascals intended. To their horror, the
stranger sank like a heavy load--rose, and then sank again.

"He can't swim; he can't swim. He'll be drowned!" burst from the lips of
the spectators. All were paralyzed with fear.

Blair had forced his way through the crowd, and reached the edge of the
wharf in time to see the pale, agonized face of the English boy, as he
for the second time rose to the surface. In another moment Blair was
diving where, far in the deep water, the pale face had vanished from
sight.

There was a moment of breathless silence, then a deafening cheer, as
Blair reappeared with the drowning boy in his arms.

There were hands enough outstretched to aid him in laying his burden on
the shore. "Help me carry him, boys, straight to our house. Mother will
know what to do for him," said Blair, speaking very quickly.

It was but a few steps down a neighboring street to Joe Robertson's
pleasant home.

Blair did not fear to take in the dripping boy and lay him on his
mother's best bed. He knew that mother's joy was to minister to the
distressed and succor the unfortunate.

The water was soon pouring from the mouth, nose, and ears of the
unconscious lad. Then he was rubbed and wrapped round with hot
flannels, while Mrs. Robertson's own hands forced his lungs to work,
until they again took their natural movement.

Not a word was asked as to how the accident had happened, until, out of
danger, the rescued boy was in a sweet sleep.

The eager crowd who had followed Blair and his charge had vanished, and
the mother sat alone with her son. Blair's dripping garments had been
exchanged for another suit, but in the midst of the late confusion his
mother's eye had silently and gratefully marked upon him the signs that
to him the English boy owed his life.

"You sa