When she opened her eyes, the Cowardly Lion was standing over her. "Are you all right?" he rumbled anxiously. "I came as soon as I could. Fell in way upstream. Seen Hokus?"
"Oh, he'll drown," cried Dorothy, forgetting her own narrow escape. "He can't swim in that heavy armor!"
"Never fear, I'll get him," puffed the Cowardly Lion, and without waiting to catch his breath he plunged back into the stream. The little man who only saved lives on Monday now approached timidly. "I'd like to get a statement from you, if you don't mind. It might help me in the future."
"You might have helped me in the present," said Dorothy, wringing out her dress. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"I'll make a note of that," said the little man earnestly. "But how did you feel when you went down?" He waited, his pencil poised over the little book.
"Go away," cried Dorothy in disgust.
"But my dear young lady—"
"I'm not your dear young lady. Oh, dear, why doesn't the Cowardly Lion come back?"
"Go away, Mem." The second little man, dripping wet, came up hurriedly.