"Then shift for yourself. I can't."
As the waters closed about them the arms of the Gentleman loosed their hold.
CHAPTER XLIII
A BLACK BORDERER TO THE RESCUE
I
A boy was wading shoreward dizzily. As he surged through the water, his body made long rippling waves. He watched them with dull fascination, pointing.
Then he began to whimper peevishly. He was tired, he was cold. The shore waved up and down before his eyes. He knew he couldn't do it.
From behind him a yell penetrated his dying mind.
It stopped him dead.
He was a little child, nightmare-bound.