“Ah, here it is!” muttered Jim, a moment later, “I thought Tom was fooling me, but I’ll soon fix it now.”
He took hold of the wheel, and as it assumed the perpendicular, began shoving it toward the water. The path was so narrow that some difficulty was caused, and Dick heard him muttering angrily to himself again.
“I guess you had better drop that!”
Dick uttered the words in the most guttural bass he could assume, and they were startling enough in the gloomy stillness of the place.
Jim was on the very edge of the pond at the moment, balancing the bicycle, and about to shove it out into the deep water at his feet, where it would instantly drop from sight. The hiss of a serpent beneath his feet could not have given him a greater shock.
He turned so abruptly that the machine fell over on its side with the rim touching the pond, which just there was at its deepest. Seeing a figure advancing from the darkness, he recoiled a step and faced the intruder.
In his fright he stepped a few inches too far and fell backward with a loud splash.
“It would serve you right if you were half drowned,” said Dick, moving forward to pick up his wheel.
He had it erect in a twinkling, and started to push it along the path, when the terrified Jim shouted:
“Help! help! I can’t swim! I’m drowning!”