Jim, thinking it a shame to leave a nice drum there after such a painful experience, emptied the soda upon the soap and orange pekoe tea and dropped the drum from the window. He then climbed up and dropped himself out upon the grass, where George waited. “Where’s Martha?” queried Jack. “Makin’ soap-suds, Ah reckon,” giggled Jim. “Making what?” demanded George, surprised. “Wall, she’s went fer a drink an’ ef dat sody sticks to her tongue she’ll have suds all inside her mouf, won’t she?” said Jim. Martha’s appearance quieted any fears for her safety, however, and soon after all were running to the creek with their burdens of boxes and broomstick guns. The raft was heavy and hard to move, but finally all hands heaved and tugged and moved it inch by inch nearer the water. The bank of the stream was about three feet above the surface of the water, so when the raft was half over the bank they expected to see it plunge headlong in with a splash, but it stuck on the jagged trunk of a tree, and the children tried in vain to dislodge it. Then Jack had an inspiration. “We’ll use the broomsticks and pry her off!” “Fine idea! Here, John, you stand there and pry under her with this stick. Jim can stand there just opposite you, while Jack and I, being strongest, will pry and shove from the back to shove her over,” said George. Obediently, John took his place and Jim stood on a flat stone opposite, but on the lower side of the raft. When the signal was given by Martha, all four shoved and worked together and the raft moved an inch more nearer the water. “Fine! Now, boys, once more!” shouted Jack. Again the signal sounded, and all four pried and pushed. Suddenly the weight of the raft carried it forward with great momentum, dislodging the stone upon which Jim stood and pushed with his broomstick. He lost his balance and fell upon the raft just as it submerged in the creek. Jim went with it, and as the mud that was stirred up from the bottom of the sluggish stream when the heavy corner of the raft dug down through the water immediately clung to him, Jim was an object for pity when he sputtered up from the water. “Dear me! The first man overboard and neither side ready for the act!” sighed Anne seriously. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, Jim, to go and spoil the battle like that?” demanded Martha, justly angry. “Huccome Ah feel ’shamed? Diden’ dat ole warship give me struggle enough widdout yo’ all blamin’ me fer a wettin’?” cried Jim defensively, trying to rub the mud from his eyes. “Well, now that you’re wet, you’d better be the captain on the ship. Get the raft back here to shore so we can load her up with tea,” ordered Jack. “Whose going to be British and who the Yanks?” asked John. “I’m always George Washington in these fights,” hinted George. “Then you’re out of this battle, ’cause Washington hadn’t a thing to do with the tea party,” returned Martha.