The steamer was already so near the wharf that Captain Pratt had no time to see if his order was obeyed, but was obliged to give all his attention to the management of the boat.
It was fortunate for Tip that the captain was very angry when he threw him into the water, since he, using all his strength, had tossed him so far from the steamer’s side that he was in no danger of being drawn under the wheel, as would have been the case had less vigor been used in the cruel deed.
Tip acted like a very sensible dog under the circumstances—he held his head up and struck out boldly for the shore, urged on by a crowd of boys on the wharf.
Tim was almost frantic with grief, believing his pet was perishing before his eyes, and he powerless to save him. It is quite possible that he would have obeyed his first impulse and leaped into the water to try to save Tip, if a passenger had not taken a firm hold of him.
“It’s a wicked shame! I’d jest like to take that captain an’ do to him jest as he has done to Tip; an’ he such a nice bear dog too!” said Bobby, who stood by Tim’s side watching Tip’s battle for life.
“Do you s’pose he’ll drown?” asked Tim, the great tear-drops rolling down his cheeks.
“I dunno,” was the cautious reply. “It seems to me his legs is rather short for swimmin’ very far; an’ then, you see, he ain’t got any tail to steer hisself by.”
Tim was just giving way to a fresh outburst of grief at these words, which seemed to sound Tip’s death-knell, when a gentleman said: