funeral-car rolled slowly along under the stars. The crickets chirped;
the multitudinous voice of the summer night murmured on every side,
mingling with the hollow rumble of the truck. In a few moments the
procession turned into the grounds, and the boat was drawn to the
platform.

"The little boys may go," said Mr. Gray.

They dropped the rope and turned away. They did not even try to see
what was done with the body; but when Blanding came out of the house
afterward, they asked him who found the drowned man.

"Jim Greenidge," said he. "He stripped as soon as we were well out on the
pond, and asked the stranger gentleman to show him about where his friend
sank. The moment the place was pointed out he dove. The first time he
found nothing. The second time he touched him"--the boys shuddered--"and
he actually brought him up to the surface. But he was quite dead. Then
we took him into the boat and covered him over. That's all."

There were no more games, there was no other talk, that evening. When the
boys were going to bed, Gabriel asked Little Malacca in which room Jim
Greenidge slept.

"He sleeps in Number Seven. Why?"

"Oh! I only wanted to know."

Gabriel Bennet could not sleep. His mind was too busy with the events of
the day. All night long he could think of nothing but the strong figure
of Jim Greenidge erect in the summer night, then plunging silently into