The young workman raised a cheerful face, streaked with black, and presenting the appearance of a light-hearted savage in trim for a funeral.
"Not a bit hurt!" he called in return. "All right, only wet, and a trifle muddy. Little chap's had a bath, that's all. Hope you haven't been anxious about him."
"Oh, yes, I have been anxious—thank you! You are sure—he has not been in danger?"
"Well," the stranger admitted, "just as well I was there, perhaps. It isn't a safe place for children, you see. How are you now, old chap? He was a bit dizzy when I picked him up, you see."
Merton lifted his black head, and looked ruefully at Margaret.
"You told me not to go!" he said. "I won't go again."
"Well, I guess you won't!" cried Basil, excitedly. "Why, you've been in all over; it's all up to your chin, and some of it's on the back of your head. I say, you must—"
The young man made him a sign quickly. "He's all right!" he said. "Mud baths extremely hygienic; recommended by the medical fraternity; a—where did you say I should put him?"
"Oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Margaret. "I am letting you hold him all this time, and you are getting all wet, too."
"No consequence, not the least in the world. Besides,—past participle perhaps more appropriate than present."