“Do what I do, Skinny,” he said. Andrews did not turn round, but his heart started thumping very fast. A dull sort of terror took possession of him. He tried desperately to summon his will power, to keep from cringing, but he kept remembering the way the room had swung round when the M.P. had hit him, and heard again the cold voice of the lieutenant saying: “One of you men teach him how to salute.” Time dragged out interminably. At last, coming back to the edge of the wharf, Andrews saw that there were no more bags in the barge. He sat down on the plank, too exhausted to think. Blue-grey dusk was closing down on everything. The Passy bridge stood out, purple against a great crimson afterglow. The Kid sat down beside him, and threw an arm trembling with excitement round his shoulders. “The guard's lookin' the other way. They won't miss us till they get to the truck.... Come on, Skinny,” he said in a low, quiet voice. Holding on to the plank, he let himself down into the speeding water. Andrews slipped after him, hardly knowing what he was doing. The icy water closing about his body made him suddenly feel awake and vigorous. As he was swept by the big rudder of the barge, he caught hold of the Kid, who was holding on to a rope. They worked their way without speaking round to the outer side of the rudder. The swift river tugging savagely at them made it hard to hold on. “Now they can't see us,” said the Kid between clenched teeth. “Can you work your shoes an' pants off?”' Andrews started struggling with one boot, the Kid helping to hold him up with his free hand. “Mine are off,” he said. “I was all fixed.” He laughed, though his teeth were chattering. “All right. I've broken the laces,” said Andrews. “Can you swim under water?” Andrews nodded. “We want to make for that bunch of barges the other side of the bridge. The barge people'll hide us.” “How d'ye know they will?” The Kid had disappeared. Andrews hesitated a moment, then let go his hold and started swimming with the current for all his might. At first he felt strong and exultant, but very soon he began to feel the icy grip of the water bearing him down; his arms and legs seemed to stiffen. More than against the water, he was struggling against paralysis within him, so that he thought that every moment his limbs would go rigid. He came to the surface and gasped for air. He had a second's glimpse of figures, tiny like toy soldiers, gesticulating wildly on the deck of the barge. The report of a rifle snapped through the air. He dove again, without thinking, as if his body were working independently of his mind.