Dudley was silent. They had now reached the low stone bridge over the
river, a favorite resort amongst all the village boys for fishing; and
quite a little group of them were collected there. Roy and Dudley were
welcomed eagerly as though perhaps at times they were inclined to assume
patronizing and masterful airs; yet their extreme generosity and love
for all country sport made them general favorites with the villagers.

Roy was soon in the midst of an eager discussion about the best bait for
trout; and was presently startled by a heavy splash over the bridge.
Looking up, to his amazement, he saw Dudley struggling in the water.

"Help, Roy, I'm drowning!"

Both boys were capital swimmers, but Roy saw that Dudley seemed
incapable of keeping himself up, and in one second he threw off his
jacket, and dived head foremost off the bridge to the rescue. The
current of the river was strong here, for a mill wheel was only a short
distance off; and it was hard work to swim safely ashore. Roy
accomplished it successfully amidst the cheers of the admiring group on
the bridge; and when once on dry ground again, neither of the boys
seemed the worse for the wetting. In the hubbub that ensued Dubley was
not questioned as to the cause of the accident; but it appeared that his
feet had got entangled in some string and netting that one of the boys
had brought with him to the bridge, and it was this that had prevented
him from swimming.

"It's awfully nice that I had the chance of helping you," said Roy, as
the two boys were running home as fast as they could to change their
wet clothes; "I didn't hurt you in the water, did I? I believe I gave a
pretty good tug to your hair, I was awfully glad you hadn't had your