another world.

"Oh, Lord! What lines!" he breathed.

Slowly the youth began to move his arms up to the horizontal, then to
the perpendicular, reaching to the utmost of his height upon his toe
tips, breathing deep the while. Smoothly, slowly, the muscles in legs
and thighs, in back, in abdomen, in chest, responding to the exercise
moved under the lustrous skin as if themselves were living things. Over
and over again the action was repeated, the muscles and body moving in
rhythmic harmony like some perfect mechanism running in a bath of oil.

"Ye gods of Greece!" breathed the man. "What is this thing I see? Flesh
or spirit? Man or god?" Again he swore at himself for neglecting to
bring his sketch book and pencil.

"Hello, father! Where are you?" A girl's voice rang out, high, clear,
and near at hand.

"Good Lord!" said the man to himself, glancing up at the poised figure.
"I must stop her."

One startled glance the youth flung down upon him, another in the
direction of the voice, then, like a white, gleaming arrow he shot down,
and disappeared in the dark pool below.

With his eyes upon the water the man awaited his reappearing. A half
minute, a full minute he waited, but in vain. Swiftly he ran toward the
edge of the pool. There was no sign anywhere of the youth.