After the first awful ducking, Handy, without losing a second began to practice her swimming. Striking out with strength and purpose and her seven good arms she managed to keep abreast of Nox, who was moving easily along in the center of the torrent. Bothersome as the Topsies had been, the Goat Girl could not help feeling sorry for the little Turn Towners. At first, she feared they would all go down. But they just spun round like water bugs on the surface and, while they made no progress, seemed in little danger of drowning. In fact they could no more sink than corks or kindling. So, busy with her own struggles, Handy dismissed them from her mind and tried to figure out the reason for the sudden and overwhelming rush of water that had deluged the city. At any rate it was fine to be rid of the Topsies, she reflected philosophically, and when the flood did recede, Turn Town would be good as new and twice as clean. The current was racing along so swiftly now, the last Topsy had long since disappeared, leaving only herself and Nox in the broad tumbling expanse of water. Nox had not uttered a word since his first outcry when the flood had overtaken them, but he looked so glum and disagreeable that Handy, thrashing along beside him, wondered what would be the best way to start a conversation. As it happened, the Royal beast saved her the trouble by starting one himself. "Well," he snorted bitterly. "I see you still have it." "WHAT?" gulped the Goat Girl, forgetting to use her arms for a moment and in consequence, shipping about a bucket of water. "Ulp--gulp--have what?" "My horn. HORN!" gurgled Nox, glaring at her angrily over a wave. "And if in the future you will keep your hands, all of them, off my horns, it will be the better for us." This seemed to Handy a very unjust and unreasonable attitude for Nox to take, but she was too occupied keeping afloat to stop and argue the matter. "Swim closer and I'll screw it back," she offered, obligingly holding up the wooden hand in which she still clutched the right half of the royal headgear. But at this, poor Nox was deluged by a robust stream that still poured from the golden horn. Hastily plunging it under the surface again, Handy watched her fellow adventurer emerge sputtering and furious from the depths. "Well of all the stupid tricks!" gasped the Ox, swimming rapidly away from her. "Stop--keep off--don't you dare come near me." "But see here," panted Handy, going after him in real exasperation. "After all it is your horn, and am I to blame if there is a river inside? What do you want me to do, throw it away?"