Kirk brought the gun up and sighted along the barrel. The boy's head came in line with the small v of the sight. "For the last time, halt!"
The boy's head turned up. His wet blond hair shone in the sunlight. Kirk squeezed the trigger.
Simultaneously with the report, the boy's hair sprang upward in startled protest; his arms gave one reflective jerk, and his face turned toward the sky.
Slowly, slowly, the white features sank beneath the water.
THE END