"Mollie! Mollie!" it came, faint but distinct, "take hold of the stick
and we'll pull you in. Mollie, do you hear me?"
The girl in the water was still struggling hard against the current
that was dragging at her cruelly, and at the sound of Betty's words
she shook the water from her eyes and looked about her dazedly. She
had forgotten the girls.
Then she saw something that sent a tingle of renewed hope through her
tired body. What she saw was a long branch bobbing on the water not
two feet from her outstretched hand, and at the other end of the stick
was-- Betty.
With a sigh that was half a sob she struck out for it, reached it, and
clung to it as only the drowning know how to cling.
Then she felt herself being drawn through the water, and once more she
closed her eyes. When she opened them again she was on a warm grassy
bank with Amy chafing one hand, Grace the other, while Betty was busy
unfastening the clothes about her waist.
As Mollie was never under any circumstances expected to act as people
thought she should act, so this occasion was no exception to the rule.
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