There was a brief struggle, a loud scream for help, and the next moment George was swinging merrily between us.
"One! Two! Three!" I cried.
At the word "three" we let go simultaneously. He flew up into the air like a great wriggling crab, twisted round twice, and then went down into the muddy water with a splash that echoed all over the Embankment.
"Very nice," said Tommy critically. "But we ought to have put a stone round his neck."
One glance over the wall showed me that there was no danger. Dripping, floundering, and gasping for breath, George emerged from the surface like a frock-coated Neptune rising from the waves. He seemed to be trying to speak, but the shrieks of innocent delight with which his reappearance was greeted by the paddling boys unfortunately prevented us from hearing him.
I thrust my arm through Tommy's. "Come along," I said. "We must get out of this before there's a row."
Swift as we had been about it, our little operation had already attracted a certain amount of notice. People were hurrying up from all directions, but without paying any attention to them, we walked back towards the taxi, the driver of which had apparently been too astonished to move.
"Gor blimey, Guv'nor," he ejaculated, "what sorter gime d'you call that?"
"It's all right, driver," said Tommy gravely. "We found him insulting this gentleman's sister."
The driver, who evidently had a nice sense of chivalry, at once came round to our side.