arms and legs and body. In brief, he was doing everything except
swim.

It was this phenomenon which had wiped away the Master's grin of
pure happiness.

Any man may fall into the water, and may present a most ludicrous
spectacle in doing so. But, on the instant he comes to the
surface, his very first motions will show whether or not he is a
swimmer. It had not occurred to the Master that anyone reared in
the North Jersey lake-country should not have at least enough
knowledge of swimming to carry him a few yards. But, even as many
sailors cannot swim a stroke, so many an inlander, born and
brought up within sight of fresh water, has never taken the
trouble to grasp the simplest rudiments of natation. And such a
man, very evidently, was Homer Wefers, Township Head Constable.

His howl of crass panic was not needed to prove this to the
Master. His every wild antic showed it. But that same
terror-stricken screech was required to set forth the true
situation to the one member of the trio who had learned from
birth to judge by sound and by scent, rather than by mere sight.

With no good grace, the Master yanked off his own coat and
waistcoat, and bent to unstrap his hiking boots. He did not
relish the prospect of a wetting, for the mere sake of saving
from death this atrocious trespasser. He knew the man could
probably keep afloat for at least a minute longer. And he was not
minded to shorten the period of fear by ripping off his own outer
garments with any melodramatic haste.