"What is the matter with you, Frane?" demanded the old woman, coming heavily down off the porch. "Who's gone down? Wha's he gone down to?" "Russ has gone down," announced Frane. "He's gone down after the catfish." "Lawsy me!" exclaimed Mammy June. "Is that li'le boy got into the branch?" Rose and Vi and Laddie and Margy and Mun Bun, as well as the two Armatage girls, all came running, too. For the first minute none of them understood what had happened to Russ. But when they reached the bank of the stream they saw something splashing in the middle of the pool under the bridge. They couldn't see Russ, but they knew that something was struggling there. "Is that a fish?" demanded Laddie. "It must be a whale." "Oh!" shrieked Rose. "It's Russ! He'll be drowned!" "Don't let him get wet, Rose," cried Margy. "Mother won't want him to get his clothes wet." But if there was any part of Russ Bunker that was not wet when he managed to get on his feet and his head and shoulders appeared above the water, Rose couldn't imagine what part it could be. He was just the wettest boy she had ever seen. Russ had got a footing finally upon the stone beside which the big catfish had lain. The water was too deep all around him for him to wade out. The bottom of the pool was so deep that it was over the boy's head. He had to stand on the rock and gasp for breath for he had swallowed a good deal of water, having gone down with his mouth open. "What did I tell you?" demanded Frane, Junior, from the bank. "You couldn't catch that cat." "I know it!" jerked out Russ. "I know it now." "Lawsy me!" ejaculated Mammy June. "Is that the way you ketches catfish up Norf?" The other little Bunkers did not understand this. Vi wanted to know at once if Russ had a kitty in the water with him. But nobody paid any attention to her questions. "Here, you 'Lias and Henery!" commanded Mammy June to two of the older colored boys. "What you standin' there idle for? Go out on that bridge and haul that poor chile ashore. What a state he is in, to be sure!" It did not take long to help Russ up on to the log again. The water just poured off him; but it was not very cold and his teeth didn't chatter--much. Mammy June showed anxiety, however. "You come right into de house, honey," she said to Russ. "Now, little Miss," she added to Rose, "yo' mustn't scold him now. Wait till we wring his clothes out and get him dry. Yo' 'Lias, bring some dry bresh and some good sticks. We'll want a hot fire." Mammy June had no stove in her cabin, but a broad and smoke-blackened open fireplace. There was a small fire in it, over which her teakettle hung. In five minutes the negro boys made a roaring blaze. Then the old woman drove them all out of the cabin save Russ, whom she helped off with his wet clothes, rubbed dry with a big towel, and to whom she gave a shirt and trousers to put on while she wrung out his clothing and hung it all about the fire to dry.