"Yes, yes. Gimme that! The paper, too. Have you——"
"Just picked them up," said Springer coolly, as he surrendered the folded paper. "Lul-looked in the book to see who it belonged to, that's all."
Newbert seemed to take a breath of relief. "I didn't know but you had been—— Oh, fudge! I dropped them only a minute ago. Say, we've kicked up a rumpus around here, haven't we? That fellow who pulled Rack out of the drink saved me from getting a soaking, as I was just going overboard after Herb. Rack thought he wouldn't take a bath this morning, but he did, just the same. Ho! ho! ho!" The cause for the laugh seemed to be nervousness and excitement rather than mirth.
"Rackliff!" muttered Springer, struck by sudden conviction.
"Old chum of mine. Don't suppose this little experience will do his cold any good, I got Orv Foxhall to come over here for Herb this morning with old man Foxy's bubble that's down there at the bottom of the canal, where it's liable to stay for some time. I reckon we'll all travel back to Wyndham by steam cars." He turned and ran toward the crowd that was coming up from the scene of the rescue.
"Rackliff!" muttered Springer once more.
He knew now who had written those signals on that sheet of paper.