"Nicely marked, Anton," he said, "they look great. But we've got to get busy."
He went to the head of the staircase and stared down.
"It doesn't look a bit nice," he declared, "I sort of hate to go through there again."
"Why do you?" queried Anton. "You could go down the line and reach the boat that way."
"That's an idea," declared Ross thoughtfully, then he shook his head. "No," he said, "my weight would swing the crutch out clear away from the house. I'd better go down the way I came up. I can always get back, anyway."
He ran down the staircase until the water reached to his chest and then struck out. The water had risen slightly, but he got through the door without any trouble. Passing through the window he was not so lucky, for a projecting splinter of glass scraped him as he dived through, making a long but shallow cut in the upper part of his arm.
Rex welcomed him back with short joyful barks.
"I'm not a bit sure," said Ross as he patted the dog, "whether it was Anton or the pups that you wanted me to rescue, eh? Which was it?"
For answer Rex only wagged his tail and jumped up on his young master.
"Down, Rex, down," ordered Ross, "this boat's too cranky for that sort of thing. Now, where's that crutch?"