I said, "Yes, I know; but try to take it easy now, because we're coming to shore. You have to act like a real hero." But as soon as we came into shallow water he jumped out of the boat and scooted around the edge of the pavilion, like a wild animal. In a couple of seconds everybody in camp was around the boat, waiting to hear what the camp doctor said. As soon as I knew that the fellow was going to be all right, I went away to find Skinny. No one else seemed to miss him. Pretty soon I heard a voice calling, "What's your hurry, Blakeley?" and I turned around and saw Bert Winton hurrying to catch up to me. "I'm going to look for that kid," I said. For about half a minute we walked along together, and then he said kind of quiet, sort of, "Do you think he's crazy?" "I don't think he's exactly crazy," I said; "but he's all gone to pieces." "He sounded crazy from the shore," he said. "He didn't know what he was saying, anybody could tell that," I answered him. "What did he do?" Winton asked me. "Oh, he just nearly killed him trying to save him," I said. "Hmph," Winton said. "He'll be all right," I told him. "Most of the fellows here think he's crazy," he said. "Last night they could hear him way out on the lake, boasting about his father stealing silver. 'Better keep your watch under your pillow and let Uncle Jeb take care of your coin,' that's what all the fellows are saying." "Is that what _you're_ saying?" I said. "I'm not saying anything," he shot back. "You saw what he just did," I told him. "I saw what he just did," he said. "You don't seem to be very excited about it," I shot back at him again. "What's the good of getting excited?" he said. "Do _you_ think he's crazy and a thief?" I asked him. "I think he may be a little crazy--at times," he said. "As to being a thief--" And then he screwed his mouth up, but didn't say anything more. "A hero-thief," I said, kind of sarcastic, for the way he talked made me mad. "He's sure a hero," he said. "I'm glad you think so," I told him. "Heroes aren't usually thieves, are they?" "Not as a rule," he said, kind of quiet and all the while kicking a stone. "Well then," I said. "Well then," he said too. "Well then, there you are," I spoke up. "Well then, here we are," he said, with an awful funny smile, "and the question is, where is the little skinny fellow?" "I guess I can find him without any help from you," I said. Then he walked away. Cracky, maybe I couldn't understand Skinny very well, but I sure couldn't understand Bert Winton at all. CHAPTER XVI TELLS ABOUT SKINNY'S ABSENCE I hunted for Skinny for a couple of hours, but I couldn't find him. I went all the way into Leeds for I couldn't think where else he'd be, if he wasn't around camp. But he wasn't in the village, that was sure, and I began to get kind of anxious, because I knew the crazy state he was in, and besides he was soaked from being in the lake.