You have already guessed that this is what took place with Mike Murphy. I cannot think of a more startling awaking than that of a sleeping person who is flung into a deep stream of very cold water. Mike’s momentum took him several feet below the surface, but he quickly rose again, shook the water from his eyes, blew it out of his mouth, and then swam straight for land with the skill that you would show in a similar situation. Even in taking the right direction he was providentially guided, for at first the dense fog shut everything from sight, but after a few strokes, he saw the dim outlines of the trees, and never stopped the vigorous swimming until he reached up, grasped an overhanging limb of a near-by tree and felt his feet touch bottom.
And then he was so overcome by what had taken place and it was so beyond his comprehension that he believed it was a miracle. Standing on the bank in his dripping clothing, he was mute for a full minute. Then he sank on his knees and looking reverently upward said:
“I thank Thee, my Heavenly Father, for saving me life when I didn’t desarve it. Why Ye took the trouble is beyond me, but I niver can thank Thee enough. I’m going to try me bist to be more desarving of Yer kindness, and now if it’s all the same to Yer blissed silf, plaise give me a chance at that spalpeen that treated me as he did.”
From down the river came the sound of the Deerfoot’s exhaust, growing fainter as the boat sped on its way. The hoarse blast of a steamer’s whistle shuddered through the mist, but the lad saw nothing of either craft. It was fog, fog on every hand.
He could not straighten out in his mind all that had taken place. More than one phase of the occurrences was beyond explanation. Overcoming in a degree the awe he felt for what had occurred in his own person, he thought:
“If the Captain and second mate didn’t know I couldn’t swim, I’d belave it was them that dropped me overboard by way of a joke, as the Barry brithers explained to the Judge was their raison for hanging Black Mike. It was thim spalpeens that wint fur the Captain whin he was journeying through the woods. Begorra! but they are piling up a big debt fur me to pay! But I’ll sittle the same wid int’rist at siven thousand per cent.
“Where’s Alvin and Chester all this time? Why didn’t they git to the Deerfut before me instead of laving it fur them chaps? What does it all maan, anyway?”
One of the singular coincidences of this series of adventures was that the Deerfoot in going down the Back River passed within a few rods of the Water Witch coming up. The noise of the respective engines prevented either party hearing the other, and the fog would have veiled them had the space between been considerably less.
Not knowing that the launch of their enemies had been moored anywhere near, Mike did not look for it. Ignorant also of how far he had been carried while asleep, he could not guess the distance to Beartown landing. It might be half a mile or ten times as much. In truth, the former distance was about right.
The pressing question was as to what he should do. His clothing even to his cap was saturated. The morning was chilly, and he shivered. He must find a place where he could obtain warmth until his garments dried. When that was done he would decide upon the next step to take.