"Huh, you girls make me sick," snorted Kent. "We won't tie you in the boat. We'll bring the boat in and get you, then we'll anchor it out where it is now, and--and--I'll go get Smith's rowboat, and Friday and I'll come out and rescue you." Margery hesitated. "Aw, come on!" urged Kent. "Don't be such a 'fraid cat. That's why us kids don't like you, you're such a silly, dressed-up doll." The banker's daughter flushed. Though she loved the pretty clothes and though the sense of superiority to other children, carefully cultivated by her mother, was the very breath of her nostrils, she had never been quite so happy as this afternoon when grubbing on an equality with these three inferior children. "I'm not afraid at all and I'm just as dirty as Lydia is. Go ahead with your old boat." They tethered Patience with Kent's cord to one of the willow trees and Margery was paddled out several boat lengths from the shore and the great stone that served for anchor was dropped over. Kent took a clean dive overboard, swam ashore and disappeared along the willow path. Little Patience set up a wail. "Baby turn too. Baby turn, too," she wept. "I'll go stay with her till Kent comes," said Lydia, diving into the water as casually as if she were rising from a chair. "I won't stay in this awful boat alone!" shrieked Margery. Lydia swam steadily to the shore, then turned. Margery was standing up in the boat. "Sit down! Sit down!" cried Lydia. Margery, beside herself with fear, tossed her arms, "I won't stay in this old--" There was a great splash and a choking cry as Margery's black braid disappeared beneath the water. "And she can't swim," gasped Lydia. "Kent!" she screamed, and made a flying leap into the water. Her slender, childish arms seemed suddenly steel. Her thin little legs took a racing stroke like tiny propellers. Margery came up on the far side of the boat and uttered another choking cry before she went down again. Lydia dived, caught the long black braid and brought the frenzied little face to the surface. Margery immediately threw an arm around Lydia's neck, and Lydia hit her in the face with a clenched small fist and all the strength she could muster. "Let go, or I'll let you drown. Turn over on your back. There isn't a thing to be afraid of." Margery, with a sob, obeyed and Lydia towed her the short distance to the boat. "There, catch hold," she said. Both the children clung to the gunwale, Margery choking and sobbing. "I can't lift you into the boat," panted Lydia. "But quit your crying. You're safe. There's Kent." The whole episode had taken but a few minutes. Kent had heard the call and some note of need in it registered, after a moment, in his mind. He ran back and leaped into the water. He clambered into the flat boat and reaching over pulled Margery bodily over the gunwale. The child, sick and hysterical, huddled into the bottom of the boat. "Are you all right, Lyd?" he asked.