Denry, clinging to the woodwork, was submerged for a moment, but by standing on the narrow platform from which sprouted the splintered ends of the shafts, he could get his waist clear of the water. He was not a swimmer.
All was still; and dark, save for the faint stream of starlight on the broad bosom of the canal basin. The pantechnicon had encountered nobody whatever en route. Of its strange escapade Denry had been the sole witness.
"Well, I 'm dashed!" he murmured aloud.
And a voice replied from the belly of the pantechnicon: "Who is there?"
All Denry's body shook.
"It's me!" said he.
"Not Mr. Machin?" said the voice.
"Yes," said he. "I jumped on as it came down the street—and here we are!"
"Oh!" cried the voice. "I do wish you could get round to me!"
Ruth Earp's voice!