They stripped and rolled their clothes into neat, round balls. Somehow it did not seem right to abandon them helter-skelter on the beach. They had a vague idea that they might return for them. They deposited them gingerly beneath the one coco palm, and walking solemnly to the water's edge they scowled into the clouded mirror of sea before them. * * * * * The water was like ice, and Bill shivered and stood on one foot. "Walk right in," said Van Wyck. "The cannibals expect us!" His smile was ghastly and indescribable. The blue veins stood out on his scrawny neck, and his forehead was covered with globules of perspiration. Bill was the first to go into deep water. Van Wyck stood with the icy current swirling about his ankles, and watched him wade out until he stood waist-deep. Bill turned and looked back reproachfully. "You're coming, aren't you?" Bill's disdain and distrust of Van Wyck were forgotten in a momentary need for companionship. As Van Wyck stood with the cold water numbing his toes he had an irrational desire to turn back and run wildly up the beach, and to stay on the island until thirst finished him off. The risk of the swim seemed suddenly displeasing to him. A mist passed rapidly before his eyes; he ran his fingers through his hair and gulped. But when he saw the pitiful, hurt expression on Bill's face he put aside unworthy thoughts. "I'm coming, Bill," he said. He walked forward until the water eddied and swirled about his chin. His face was hideously drawn and his eyes bulged, but a forlorn ray of sunlight filtered through the clouds and played about his head, bringing out its latent manliness. "It's deep, out there," said Bill. They both lurched forward. The sudden loss of footing accentuated Bill's weakness, and he went under. He felt that his arms and legs were incapable of sustaining him, and he wondered if Van Wyck would try to save him. He came up and struck out, his mouth full of water. The salt burned his throat and he swallowed. The water went into his stomach. He shivered. The sun beat mercilessly down upon his naked body. He swam boldly, with a brief sense of triumph. He had conquered his physical weakness. He knew that his strength might not last, but the thought that he had not depended upon Van Wyck gave him secret satisfaction. He could see Van Wyck's red head on the water several yards ahead of him. The little wretch had evidently made good use of his legs and arms. "Slow up, Van Wyck!" he shouted. "I don't dare to!" Van Wyck called back. "If I stop I might sink. And think how deep it is!" Bill resented Van Wyck's reminder. "If you don't ease up," he shouted, "you'll surely go down. This isn't an athletic contest!" "It is," cried Van Wyck. "It's the greatest ever--even if there are head-hunters at the goal. I advise you to talk to me. It keeps me from thinking. If I think I shall go down."