He gasped the words as she struck the water like a professional diver and disappeared from view.
Then he ran frantically about, hoarsely shouting:
“Stop the boat! Stop the boat!”
Frank Merriwell was astounded by this rash act of the handsome girl, but barely had she disappeared beneath the surface of the lake when he began to tear off his outer clothing with a haste that indicated his purpose.
As Frank tugged at his shoes he saw the girl come to the surface, and, hampered by clothing though she was, strike out toward the little dog, which was trying to swim toward her.
Wildly waving his arms, the ministerial young man shouted:
“Hilda! Hilda! Stop the boat! Hilda, swim this way! She will be drowned!”
Not a word did Frank Merriwell say, but with one bound he shot into the air and plunged out over the stern rail of the steamer, his body making a graceful curve in the air and plunging head downward into the white water.
Merry quickly came to the surface, and started swimming after the girl, who was still paddling toward the little dog, although it was plain that her clothing greatly impeded her progress.
She did not look back, but kept straight on toward her imperiled pet, her one determination seeming to be to save him or perish with him. Her handsome and costly hat had been torn from her head as she struck the water, and she was swimming with her head bare, her dark hair seeming blacker than ever now that it was wet.