As she spoke, the man’s head bobbed into view, and, giving himself a shake to rid his eyes of water, he struck out for the shore.

“Oh, he’s swimming!  He’s swimming!” Mollie exclaimed.  “We must get him a rope—­a plank—­anything!  We’ll help you!” she called, and she ran about almost hysterically.

The man was now swimming with long, even strokes.  He seemed at home in the water, even with his clothes on, and the long jump had evidently not injured him in the least.

He reached the bank, climbed up, and stood dripping before the four young travelers.

“Whew!” he gasped, taking off his coat and wringing some water from it.  “That was some jump!  I had to do it, though!”

“Indeed you were fortunate,” said Betty.  “Are you hurt?”

“Not a bit—­a little shaken up, that’s all.  I should not have been on that bridge, as a section hand warned me a train was due, and the trestle is very narrow.  But I was taking a short cut.  Railroads seem to bring me bad luck.  This is the second time, in a little while, that I’ve had trouble on this same line.”

Grace was rummaging about in the valise she carried.

“Where’s our alcohol stove?” she demanded, of Mollie.

“Why?  What do you want of it?”

“I’m going to make him a cup of hot chocolate.  He must need it; poor fellow!”

“I’ll help you,” said Mollie, and the two set up the little heating apparatus in the lee of a big rock.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” asked Betty, anxiously.

“Oh, I’m all right,” the man assured the girls.  “I wish I had some dry clothes.  This is about the only suit I have.  However, the sun will soon dry them, but they’ll need pressing.”

“We’re making you some chocolate,” spoke Grace.  “It will be ready soon, and keep you from getting cold.”

The man—­he was young and good-looking—­smiled, showing his even, white teeth.

“You seemed prepared for emergencies,” he said to Betty.  “Are you professional travelers?”

“Just on a walking tour.  We’re from Deepdale.  We’re going home to-morrow, after stopping over night in Judgeville.  We were just going to get our noon-day lunch when we saw you jump.”

“Indeed,” remarked the young man, who was now wringing out his vest.  “From Deepdale; eh?  I’ve been through there on the train.  This line runs there; doesn’t it?” and he motioned to the one he had so hastily left.

“Yes,” answered Betty.  “But we never walk the track—­though we did once for a short distance.”

“And we found a broken rail, and told a flagman and he said the train might have been wrecked,” remarked Amy.

It was the first she had spoken in some time.  The young man looked at her sharply—­rather too long a look, Betty thought; but there was nothing impertinent in it.

“Railroads—­or, rather, this one—­have been the cause of two unpleasant experiences to me,” the young man went on.  “I was nearly injured just now, and not long ago I lost quite a sum of money on this line.”