"Save me, George!" cried Polly, clinging to his arm.
"Yes, darling!" he answered fervently. If the ants had been raging bulls, he would have saved her from them; but they were ants, and their ways were devious. He hesitated, slapping himself thoughtfully.
"Turn on the lights!" yelled some one.
"No! Don't!" screamed half a dozen shrill voices.
"Save me!" repeated Polly, distractedly. "I can't stand this any longer! I'll perish!"
Struck with a swift inspiration, he caught her up in his arms and started for the door. She made no resistance. Out of the room he carried her, then through the front hall, and down the front steps.
Half-way down the walk she asked:
"Where are you taking me?"
"To the ocean."
"Why, you clever boy!"