As Edina hesitated, lagging behind the others, Paul Martinson linked his arm through hers and led her toward his boat.
“You come with me,” said the young cadet, with a masterful air.
Behind Paul’s back, Billie winked mischievously at Edina.
“Without even fishing, you’ve made a good catch,” she whispered mischievously. “Hang on to it!”
Whether this pleasantry confused Edina, or whether the girl, hating and fearing the water, slipped as she was about to enter the boat, no one ever knew. At any rate, she lost her footing in some way, pushed the rowboat outward as she fell, and plunged headlong into the deep water at the end of the pier!
“She can’t swim a stroke!” cried Billie, and without an instant’s hesitation followed the girl into the chilly water.
Billie dived for Edina but could not locate her.
“She has been caught under the dock!” Billie came up for a breath of air and dived again. This time she, too, came up under the dock. She bumped up against something that was only a fuzzy white blur in the water and cried in her heart: “Thank goodness!”
A long nail had caught in the wool stuff of Edina’s skirt and held it fast.
Billie’s lungs seemed to be bursting, but she worked at the cloth so frantically that the nail came out of the rotted wood.