The stranger had eaten heartily and joined freely in the conversation, but by tacit consent they had waited till the meal was over before they discussed his narrow escape. The Rally Hall boys had had time to take the unknown one’s measure, and the general impression was favorable.
He was a clean-cut, well set up youth of about sixteen years. His form was lithe and muscular, his hair black, and his eyes frank and friendly. His speech showed education, and his manners were easy and correct.
If there was anything about him that marked him out as peculiar, it was a certain baffled expression that came and went in his eyes. He looked like one who was always seeking for something, but never finding it. His glance had taken in the cove and the surrounding shore, as though to impress it on his memory, with a view to using the knowledge later on.
28Now as the boys lounged around the fire, he seemed to feel that the time had come to give some account of himself.
“I can’t thank you fellows enough for having pulled me out of the water,” he began.
“Here’s the fellow to thank,” interrupted Lester, clapping his hand on Fred’s shoulder. “He went overboard after you.”
“What?” was the surprised reply. “I thought you pulled me in from the deck. That was an awfully plucky thing for you to do,” the stranger declared, as he grasped Fred’s hand warmly, “and I’ll never forget it. With that shark swimming around there, too!”
“Oh, that was nothing,” disclaimed Fred. “I had tight hold of a rope, and it was no trick at all to hold on to you until the other fellows pulled us in.”
“You took your life in your hand just the same,” affirmed the other. “I hope that some day I’ll be able to show you how much I appreciate it.”
“What was the matter with your motor boat anyway?” asked Fred, who was always embarrassed by thanks and wanted to change the subject.