"I---I don't know how it happened," gasped the loser. "There
it is, away down the stream, floating toward that boathouse.
Oh, Master Prescott, do you feel able to go and get it for me?"
"I'll do it with pleasure, madam," Dick nodded. He looked for
a moment. Then, seeing a black floating object, he started after
it, his stroke apparently none the weaker after his swift race.
It had floated nearly under the boathouse at the water end. The
building in question belonged to the estate next to that from
which the swimming contests had been conducted. This boathouse
was closed, for the owners had not yet come to Gridley for the
summer. The windows of the little green building were shuttered
from the inside. Over the water the walls came down to within
six inches of the present level of water.
Keeping his eyes turned toward the black, floating object, Dick
swam easily to the spot. The black object floated under the open
sidewall into the boathouse. Just as Dick got there he dived,
duck fashion, head first, and passed to the interior of the boathouse
at the river end.
As he came up inside Dick's first discovery was that of artificial
light in the boathouse. Then his gaze rested on the platform
end over the land.
"Amos Garwood here, of all places!" gasped the astonished Grammar
School boy.
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