happened, was one of the things he did best, and somewhere among his
belongings at home was a tarnished pewter cup which he had won at
school in the "Saving Life" competition. He knew exactly what to do.
You get behind the victim and grab him firmly under his arms, and then
you start swimming on your back. A moment later the astonished Mr.
Swenson, who, being practically amphibious, had not anticipated that
anyone would have the cool impertinence to try and save him from
drowning, found himself seized from behind and towed vigorously away
from a ten-dollar bill which he had almost succeeded in grasping. The
spiritual agony caused by this assault rendered him mercifully dumb;
though, even had he contrived to utter the rich Swedish oaths which
occurred to him, his remarks could scarcely have been heard, for the
crowd on the dock was cheering as one man. They had often paid good
money to see far less gripping sights in the movies. They roared
applause. The liner, meanwhile, continued to move stodgily out into
mid-river.

The only drawback to these life-saving competitions at school,
considered from the standpoint of fitting the competitors for the
problems of after-life, is that the object saved on such occasions is a
leather dummy, and of all things in this world a leather dummy is
perhaps the most placid and phlegmatic. It differs in many respects
from an emotional Swedish gentleman, six foot high and constructed
throughout of steel and india rubber, who is being lugged away from
cash which he has been regarding in the light of a legacy. Indeed, it
would not be hard to find a respect in which it does not differ. So far
from lying inert in Sam's arms and allowing himself to be saved in a
quiet and orderly manner, Mr. Swenson betrayed all the symptoms of one
who feels that he has fallen among murderers. Mr. Swenson, much as he
disliked competition, was ready to put up with it, provided that it was