It was several minutes before he recovered himself, and when he did so his first thought was to see who it was that had thus saved him in the nick of time.
A man stood before him, patting a huge mastiff on the head, and the young fellow could but give a start of surprise when he saw that it was Reginald Lacy, the man whose life was sought by Philander Owens.
“So you have recovered, young fellow?” said Lacy, as he coiled the rope which had been attached to the dog’s neck.
“Yes,” returned Leo, rising to his feet, “and I thank you a thousand times for saving my life!”
“Don’t mention it. I could not stand by and see a man whom I had nothing against go over the falls, and be dashed to pieces on the rocks below. Had you been my enemy, I would not have raised a hand to help you.”
Then the thought struck the young swamp explorer that Philander Owens, clinging to a log, had preceded him down the turbulent stream but a minute before. Had Reginald Lacy stood upon the shore and watched him go whirling to his death?
As he looked at the man and saw the satisfied expression that gleamed from his eyes, he made up his mind that such indeed was the case.
“That is a splendid dog you have,” remarked Leo. “Had it not been for him all would have been up with me.”
“Yes,” assented Lacy. “There are few better dogs than Jupiter. He is the best friend I have got in the whole world.”
As he spoke a far-away look came into his eyes, and his lips twitched nervously.