As the Master set foot on the dock he saw the Collie rush forward
with an impetus that sent both shaggy mahogany shoulders far out
of water. Striking with brilliant accuracy, the dog avoided
Wefers' flailing arms and feet, and clinched his strong teeth
into the back of the drowning man's collar.
Thus, Lad was safe from the blindly clinging arms and from a
kick. He had chosen the one strategic hold; and he maintained it.
A splashing of the unwieldy body made both heads vanish under
water, for a bare half-second, as the Master poised himself on
the string-piece for a dive. But the dive was not made.
For the heads reappeared. And now, whether from palsy of fright
or from belated intelligence,--Wefers ceased his useless
struggles; though not his strangled shrieks for help. The collie,
calling on all his wiry power, struck out for the dock; keeping
the man's face above water, and tugging at his soggy weight with
a scientific strength that sent the two, slowly but steadily,
shoreward.
After the few feet of the haul, Wefers went silent. Into his
blankly affrighted face came a look of foolish bewilderment.
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