‘Why,’ answered Ephraim, looking as shamefaced as if he had been confessing to a grievous sin, ‘it ain’t much, maybe; but I reckon it’s enuff. I can’t swim.’ At this plain statement of an unpleasant fact, Lucius looked aghast. ‘Why, of course you can’t,’ he said. ‘I’d forgotten that.’ Then recovering himself, he added cheerily: ‘Well, never mind, Grizzly; I’ll do the swimming. You just grab me lightly round the back and kick out well behind, and I’ll get you there. Tisn’t far.’ Ephraim shook his head. ‘It isn’t ez fur ez all thet, Luce, I ’low,’ he said; ‘but thar’s a tur’ble strong current. Ef I drew ye under by my weight and felt myself drownin’, I might ketch hold on ye and drown ye ez well. A man couldn’t well know what he war about in sarkumstances like thet, ye see. So I’m obleeged ter ye fer thinkin’ er it; but ef it’s all the same, I’d ruther not resk it.’ ‘There’s no risk,’ urged Lucius. ‘All you have to do is to hold on tight.’ But Ephraim was obdurate. ‘Well, what are we to do, then?’ asked Lucius disconsolately. ‘Every minute is precious.’ ‘I know thet,’ answered Ephraim, ‘and the best thing ter be done is this. Ye swim ashore ez soon ez ye kin. I’ll drift on in the boat, and maybe it’ll be dark afore they find me, and I may run agin a spit or suthin,’ and so git ashore. Thar’s no use lettin’ ’em cotch the two er us. Now, is thar?’ But he looked down as he made the suggestion. ‘I don’t wonder you are ashamed of yourself to propose such a disgraceful thing,’ cried Lucius indignantly. ‘To think for a moment that I would leave you in the lurch just on the chance of saving my own skin, after all you’ve done for me. Oh, Grizzly, what a shame to suppose I would do it!’ ‘I didn’t think ye’d do it, Luce,’ mumbled Ephraim, looking a very crestfallen Grizzly indeed. ‘On’y I thort’—— ‘I don’t want to hear what you thought,’ interrupted Lucius, who was undressing himself while he talked. ‘I’ve made up my mind what to do, and I’m going to do it. So there.’ ‘What mought thet be?’ inquired Ephraim, eyeing him curiously. ‘I’ll show you fast enough,’ answered Lucius, now stripped to his shirt. ‘If you are afraid to trust yourself in the water along with me’—— ‘Fer fear of drownin’ ye, Luce; fer fear of drownin ye,’ put in Ephraim deprecatingly. ‘Of course. What else? I didn’t suppose you were thinking of yourself. I’ve had teaching enough to know that’s not your way. If you’re afraid of drowning me, then there’s only one thing to be done—I must swim ashore myself and tow the boat after me, with you in it.’ ‘See hyar,’ began Ephraim, but Lucius cut him short. ‘Come on, now. Don’t waste time in talking. Fasten the painter round me. You can tie a better knot than I can.’ ‘It’ll hurt ye monstrous, Luce,’ said Ephraim.