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Putchett at first looked suspiciously at the child, for he had at one period of his life labored industriously in the business of dropping bogus pocketbooks and watches, and obtaining rewards from persons claiming to be their owners. Examining the watch which the child handed him, however, he recognized it as one upon which he had lent twenty dollars earlier in the day.
He kicked and paddled rapidly, but seemed to make no headway, and while Alice, realizing the danger, commenced to cry piteously, Mr. Putchett plainly saw on the shore the child's mother in an apparent frenzy of excitement and terror.
This time he wound it about Alice's arm, put the end into her hand, kissed her forehead, said, "Good-by, little angel, God bless you," and threw up his hand as a signal that the line should be drawn in. In less than a minute little Alice was in her mother's arms, but when the line was ready to be thrown again, Mr. Putchett was not visible.
Putchett oddly-clothed members of his own profession, and offered for sale securities whose numbers Mr.
Putchett registered at the hotel and paid the week's board which the landlord, after a critical survey of his new patron, demanded in advance.
I've searched his property and can't find it, but I'll bet a thousand it's on that string around his neck that's Putchett all over. Now, you let me take it, and I'll let him alone; nobody else need know what's happened. He seems to have behaved himself here, judging by the good opinion folks have of him, and he deserves to have a chance which he won't get if I take him to jail."
Several precious moments were spent in righting the boat and bailing out the water, after which the boat was safely launched, the fishermen sprang to the oars, and in a moment or two were abreast the buoy. Mr. Putchett was not to be seen even had he reached the buoy it could not have supported him, for it was but a small stick of wood.
Putchett's arm suddenly moved; his hand grasped the shell and carried it toward his lips; his eyes opened for a moment and fell upon the officer, at the sight of whom Mr. Putchett shivered and closed his eyes again. "That chill's a bad sign," muttered the captain. Mr. Putchett's eyes opened once more, and sought little Alice; his face broke into a faint smile, and she stooped and kissed him.
Putchett turned quickly, and saw a little girl, six or seven years of age, running toward him. In one hand she held a small pail and wooden shovel, and in the other something bright, which was too large for her little hand to cover.
Putchett, to fight off loneliness as long as possible, rose from the bench on which he had been sitting and followed the party up the beach. He had supposed himself the last person that left the beach, but in a moment or two he heard a childish voice shouting: "Mister, mister! I guess you've lost something!" Mr.
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