was working madly over the unconscious child. "Get me a blanket!" he called, "and some bath-towels, quick!" and Bert fled to the task.
When she came back she set to work with him, asking no questions, but doing first aid work like a Trojan, while Kat stood at a distance and looked on with tight lips. At last Bert turned upon her. "Why don't you do something?" she cried. "What are you standing there like a post for? Why weren't you helping when I came?"
Kat's chin set stubbornly. "Well, I guess when my own sister was drowning I had to take care of her, didn't I? Mr. Harris wouldn't do a thing. He just let her drown. There she is lying unconscious out on the sand now."
"Well, why aren't you with her then?" asked Bert, with some sarcasm. "She isn't unconscious so's anyone could notice. She was alive enough to put up her head and look at me when I came, all right. Well, run along, cheer her last moments; we don't need you." For the child was beginning to gasp and show brave signs of returning to life.
But Kat stood her ground. "Well, it's no credit to Mr. Harris that she isn't dead now. He passed her right by, when she begged him to help her, just to go out and bring in that—brat!"
Dick kept steadily on with his work. Bert turned to him. "What really did happen?" she asked.
But before he could answer, Kat broke in.
