For a second, Brian Kent held his place as if paralyzed with horror.
Then, as Judy's head appeared farther down the stream, he ran with
all his strength along the bank to gain a point a little ahead of the
swimming girl before he should leap to her rescue.

But Judy, trained from her birth on that mountain river, knew better
than Brian what to do. A short distance below the point where she had
plunged into the stream, a huge boulder, some two or three feet from the
shore, caused a split in the current, one fork of which set in toward
the bank. Swimming desperately, the girl gained the advantage of this
current, and, just as Brian reached the spot, she was swept against
the bank, where, with her free hand, she caught and held fast to a
projecting root. Had she been carried past that point, nothing could
have saved her from being swept on into the wild turmoil of the waters
at Elbow Rock.

It was the work of a moment for Brian to throw himself flat on the
ground at the edge of the bank and, reaching down, to grasp the girl's
wrist. Another moment, and she was safe beside him, his manuscript still
tightly held under one arm.

Not realizing, in his excitement, what he was doing, Brian shook the
girl, saying angrily: "What in the world do you mean, taking such a
crazy-fool chance as that!"

She broke away from him with: "Well, what'd you-all go an' do such a
dad burned fool thing for? Hit's you-all what's crazy yourself--plumb
crazy!"

Brian held out his hand: "Give me that manuscript!"