Fortunately, as my old readers know, Bob was a good swimmer, and without hesitation he struck out for the floating object. As he came closer he saw that the little maiden was still conscious.
"Help me!" she wailed, when she saw him. "Don't let me go down in the cold water, please!"
"I will save you," said Bob, firmly. "Here, put your arms around my neck," and he caught hold of her, for he saw that she was more than ready to sink to rise no more.
It was wonderful what trust the little girl imposed upon this youth whom she had never before met. Bob's face was a thoroughly honest and reliable one, and youth sometimes reads character better than old age, doing so by instinct rather than reason.
The boy had just struck out for shore when there came a shout, and two bicycle riders appeared, followed by an elderly man on horseback.
The elderly man was very much excited and waved one hand wildly over his head.
"Save Bessie!" he yelled. "Save my daughter!"
And then dismounting, he attempted to leap into the stream, but one of the bicyclists held him back.
"I'll bring her in," called out Bob.
"Papa! papa!" cried the little girl. "I want my papa!"