I rose to the surface close to the upturned boat. The first sight I
saw was the spluttering face of Mr. Hawk. I ignored him and swam to
where the professor's head bobbed on the waters.
"Keep cool," I said. A silly remark in the circumstances.
He was swimming energetically but unskillfully. In his shore clothes
it would have taken him at least a week to struggle to land.
I knew all about saving people from drowning. We used to practice it
with a dummy in the swimming bath at school. I attacked him from the
rear and got a good grip of him by the shoulders. I then swam on my
back in the direction of land, and beached him at the feet of an
admiring crowd. I had thought of putting him under once or twice just
to show him he was being rescued, but decided against such a course as
needlessly realistic. As it was, I fancy he had swallowed two or three
hearty draughts of sea water.
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