“Slow down!” cried Shirley to the fisherman. “We must pick him up.”
The owner of the boat complied, and steered the craft to where the unfortunate youth’s head showed above the water at that moment. Leonard stretched forth his unwounded arm, and succeeded in dragging the victim aboard, where he sank to the bottom of the boat panting.
Shirley took one look at the bedraggled youth, and then exclaimed aloud:
“Dick!”
Their erstwhile opponent looked at her in surprise. It was plain that he did not recognize her.
“Don’t you know me?” asked Shirley, half laughing.
“No,” returned the youth somewhat sullenly.
“Then I’ll refresh your memory,” said Shirley. “Do you remember a street fight in Cincinnati one night not long ago, when your own friends turned on you because you befriended a strange youth, who later turned out to be a girl?”
Dick’s face took on a reddish hue.
“And do you remember escorting the girl home?” continued Shirley, “and disappearing before she had an opportunity of thanking you? Do you remember me now?”