sly angry than when he
had supposed he had merely taken her out to row.

"I haven't anything to say," he answered, shortly, "except that parsons
had better attend to their own business, if they have any, and let young
ladies and boats alone."

"Oh, that's all, is it?" said the bishop, and with a quick step forward he
clutched the young man's arm with his right hand, while he seized his belt
with the other, and then with a great heave sent him out into the water
fully ten feet from the shore. With a splash like a dropped anchor Martin
disappeared from view, but soon arose, his head and shoulders above the
surface, where he stood for a moment, spluttering and winking and almost
dazed.

The bishop stood on the bank and smiled. "Did you fall overboard?" said
he. "You must be a pretty sort of a boatman!"

Without replying, Martin began to wade ashore.

"Come on," said the bishop; "if you can't get up the bank, I'll help
you."

But Martin needed no help; he scrambled to the bank, shook himself, and
then advanced upon the bishop, fire in his eye and his fist clinched.

"Stop, young man," said the other. "It would not be fair to you if I did
not tell you that I am a boxer and a heavy-weight, and that I threw you
into the water because I didn't want to damage your face and eyes. You
were impertinent, but I am satisfied, and the best thing you can do is to
go and change your clothes before any one sees you in that plight. You are
better off than I am, because I have no clothes with which to make a
change." So saying, he sat down and began to put on his shoes.

Martin stood for a moment and looked at the bishop, he thought of Margery
and a possible black eye, and then he walked as fast as he could to his
tent to get some dry clothes. He was very wet, he was very hot, he was
very angry, and what made him more angry than anything else was a respect
for the bishop which was rising in him in spite of all his efforts to keep
it down.

When Mr. Archibald and his party came back to camp late in the afternoon,
Margery, who had already told her story to Mrs. Archibald, told it to each
of the others. Mr. Archibald was greatly moved by the account of the
bishop's bravery. He thoroughly appreciated the danger to which Margery
had been exposed. There were doubtless persons who could be trusted so sit
quietly in a little boat with only one oar, and to float upon a lake out
of sight and sound of human beings until another boat could be