“Hai-yai!” yelled Asa, as, thundering down on them from behind, he put his broncho between the ponies. Whether it was the sudden yell that caused poor old Tubby to lose her stride, or whether it was the sudden rush of the broncho’s feet behind her that made Peg lose her nerve, as Tubby rose for the leap Peg pulled hard and next instant Tubby was floundering in the swift running water and Peg floating down toward the pool. “Swim, Peg,” shouted Asa, rather alarmed at the event, springing from his broncho and running toward the bank. But poor Peggy’s swimming powers, at best of the smallest, were more than neutralised by the shock and terror of her sudden plunge, and it was all she could do to keep afloat while she was being swept down toward the pool and the rocks below. The roar and splash of the rapids struck terror to her heart. “Oh, Paul, save me!” she shrieked, beginning to splash wildly. “All right, Peg, I’ll get you,” cried Paul. Like a flash he swung his pony on its heels, dashed down the stream and plunged into the pool. As the water came up over the saddle he slipped off, holding to the stirrup. “Here you are, Peg,” he shouted, as the pony headed off the floating girl from the rapid. Reaching out, he seized her dress and held firm, while Joseph gallantly made for the farther bank and clambered up to safety, Tubby meantime managing to scramble out of danger. “All right, Peg, eh?” gasped Paul, holding the child close to him. “Oh, Paul,” cried Peg, crying and choking. “It wasn’t—Tubby’s—fault. I pulled her.” “No! It wasn’t Tubby’s fault, nor your fault. It was that—that—that—damn beast, Asa,” pointing across the stream to the bigger boy who stood, white and shaken, beside his sister. “I don’t care, I’ve said it and I mean it and I say it again. He’s a damn, damn, damn beast! So he is!” The boy was beside himself with fury. “And I don’t care either. I won’t repent. It’s true! And God doesn’t want me not to tell the truth, and he is a beast and a damn beast, and he will go to hell, I know. And he just deserves to go. And I’ll ask God to send him there.” “Oh, Paul!” gasped Peg in sobbing delight. “I think you’re just lovely.” “Here!” said the boy in a gruff voice, pulling off his coat and wringing it dry. “Put this on and let us get home. It must be nearly one, and I promised.” Meekly Peg put on the coat. The warm June sun soon had their soaked garments steaming. Paul caught Tubby, helped Peg to mount, swung himself on Joseph and with never a glance at the others across the stream rode off at a gallop to keep his one o’clock appointment. For a full half mile he let the pinto have his head, to the great and audible distress of old Tubby, heroically resolved not to be distanced. Suddenly he pulled up and waited for Tubby to draw level. “Your mother will be awful mad,” he growled.