I can't tell you about how he looked--honest, I just can't tell you. But there was blood on his face just the same as I saw in the dream--as sure as I'm sitting here, there was. He had hold of the camping fellow's mackinaw jacket with his teeth and the fellow's mouth was stretched wide open and Skinny's hand was clutching his teeth and chin and holding his head above water that way. It wasn't like any rule for holding a drowning fellow, anyway, no rule _I_ ever heard of. Even now I can see that skinny little white hand straining to hold that mouth and chin, and afterward I saw how there was a cut across Skinny's fingers where the fellow's teeth had pressed. Skinny's arm was shaking just like a rope shakes when it's pulled too tight and his eyes were staring crazy. While I kept the boat steady, Doc leaned out and pressed Skinny's jaws so as to make his teeth let go. And even then when we dragged him in over the stern, he had a piece of mackinaw jacket in his mouth. I said, "Skinny, don't act crazy, he's saved," but he only sat on the back seat trembling all over as if he had a fit. It wasn't because he was cold, it was just because he was excited and crazy like. I didn't notice the camping fellow much after I saw that he was alive and that Doc had him breathing all right. Westy took the oars but I couldn't help him on account of Skinny. And I couldn't do much for Skinny either. He was gone clean out of his head and started screaming, "_I did it; I did it!_" I said, "Yes, you did it; try to be quiet and get rested now. Can't you see he's all right?" "I held him up till you came," he panted; "I'm a hero. I want to go and be all by myself, I do." I said, "Hsh, Skinny, listen--" "He called me!" Skinny shouted; "_he called me_ out loud!" "I know," I said, "and you went. Sure, you're a hero." But of course, I knew the fellow never called him at all. Anyway, maybe the wind made it sound that way to him. He just sat there shaking all over and staring wild, "Three times," he panted out, "and that's the last--I--I got my hand in his mouth before--before--he said it--I did. That's the way murderers do--it is. I did it. Even I know how to strangle--I do. I'm a hero!" I said, "Listen here, Alf, you're a wonder--" "I--I--I--could _kill_ you if I wanted to!" he screamed; "I can do anything--I can sneak--stalk--I can take things out of your pocket--I can choke people--I--" That's just the way he went on and I saw he had gone all to pieces, maybe from the strain, and didn't know what he was saying. I just put my arm around him and I could feel that he was shaking all over, but it wasn't anything like a chill. He kept saying, "I want to be alone by myself now." I said, "Alf, listen a minute--_please_. You can go and be alone by yourself. You can go in our patrol cabin and I'll chase all the fellows out. I know how you feel. It was wonderful, Alf. Try to get quieted down now. You saved him." "I--I can _bite_," he said.