Part 12 (2/2)
He dove forward, yelled loudly, and was cast over the edge of the deck just as sprawlingly as the Barnacle himself!
”Man overboard!” yelled Reddy, scarcely able to say it for laughter.
The crowd on the other powerboat heard the shout, if they had not all seen Purt's exhibition of diving. The dude went under just as deep as the dog, and did not come to the surface anywhere near as quickly.
The Barnacle, whether he was a water-dog, or not, was a good swimmer.
When his head shot above the stream he yelped, started to paddle after the _d.u.c.h.ess_ and her tow, saw that that was useless, and turned toward the southerly bank of the stream.
The river was half a mile wide at this place, and the Barnacle left a wake like a motorboat behind him. He was going to reach the sh.o.r.e all right.
How about the master he had adopted? Purt came to the surface more slowly, but when he got there he emitted a shriek like a steam whistle.
The _d.u.c.h.ess_ had gone ahead of him. Arthur Hobbs was poised to leap overboard; but there swept close to the dude one of the trailing canoes, and just by raising an arm Purt reached it.
He clung to the gunwale and was dragged on behind the _d.u.c.h.ess_. At first the canoe tipped and threatened to turn over; Purt slipped along to the stern, and there got a grip on both sides, and so trailed on behind, getting his breath.
”He's all right,” said Reddy, chuckling. ”Let him cool off a little, Art.”
The girls aboard the _Bonnie La.s.s_ were somewhat worried over Purt Sweet's predicament. ”He'll be drowned!” Lily Pendeton declared, first of all.
”I'm not afraid of that,” Bobby said. ”But if that suit of his shrinks, what a sight he'll be!”
”This is no time for light talk,” declared Jess Morse. ”Purt isn't a very good swimmer.”
”Well!” exclaimed Nellie, rather tartly for her, ”how did he know whether that poor dog could swim, or not?”
”Looks as though he had finally gotten rid of the Barnacle, just the same,” laughed Laura.
”We'll see about that,” responded her brother, darkly. ”That dog has the stick-to-it-iveness of fish-glue. Wait and see.”
Meanwhile Arthur Hobbs drew in the canoe Purt was clinging to, and soon helped the gasping dude into the large boat.
”Oh! oh!” cried Purt. ”I might have known that horrid dog was bad luck.”
Having seen the exquisite dragged aboard the _d.u.c.h.ess_, most of the girls on the other powerboat gave their attention to the dog. Indeed, his fate all the time had attracted more attention from Lizzie Bean, than had the trouble Purt Sweet was in.
”Why! he might have been drowned!” Lily exclaimed in answer to something Bobby said.
”That's right. And it would be too mean,” spoke up Lonesome Liz, as Billy Long secretly called the sad-faced girl. ”He's a smart dog.”
”Mercy! who cares about that horrid dog?” snapped Lily.
”I do, for one,” said Nellie Agnew.
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