And, man and collie together disappeared under the surface, in a swirl of churned foam.
The Mistress cried aloud, at this hideous turn her pretty plan had taken.

The Master, one shoe off and one shoe on, hobbled at top pace toward the dock.
As he reached the foot of the lawn, Lad's head and shoulders came into view above the little whirlpool caused by the sinking bodies' suction.
And, at the same moment, the convulsed features of Homer Wefers showed through the eddy.

The man was thrashing and twisting in a way that turned the lake around him into a white maelstrom.
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.