ut it. I
remembered what our scoutmaster said about a fellow that's drowning--that
he can think as long as his head is out of water. And this was like
drowning, only slower. I was wondering how that spark plug got there.
It's funny how you'll think about little things like that even when
you're dying.

One thing sure, no automobile ever went through there, and no motorcycle
either. Maybe a fellow in an airplane might have dropped it, or maybe--

Then, all of a sudden I began to laugh. And while I was laughing some
water flowed into my mouth. But I didn't care, I was feeling so good.
I knew all about the whole thing now, and I felt like kicking myself
only my feet were down in all that tangle of marsh. But what cared I,
yo ho--and a couple of yee hees.

Oh, I was some wise little boy scout then, and I had a scout smile long
enough to tie in a couple of bow knots. That spark plug was thrown out
of a motor boat. I could see that the spark points were bad and somebody
threw it away because it wouldn't work and then put in a new one. And
I knew that already the tide was beginning to come up and that pretty
soon there would be a creek here and that I could swim in it.

Cracky, you can't scare me when it's a question of swimming, for I
wasn't brought up in a bath tub. Many's the time I swam across Black
Lake. Water's all right, but swamps--good night! Maybe if you don't
live near meadow lands you won't understand how it was. But when the
tide rises twice every twenty--four hours (you learn that in the
Fourth Grade), it makes creeks through the meadows and marshes. Some
of them are deep enough for small motor boats even, only you've got
to be careful not to stay up one of them too long or you'll get stuck
till the next day. One time that happened to Ed Sanders that owned
we Rascal and he was there all night, and he almost died from poison
of the mosquitoes. Anyway I would have been dead before night when the
mosquitoes come out--that's one good thing. I don't mean it's one good
thing, but anyway you know what I mean.

Pretty soon I could push the swamp grass out of the way and swim a
little. Oh, cracky, I was thankful for that tide I I knew it would keep
on coming when it once started 'cause the tide never goes back on you.
Of course it goes back, but you know what I mean. Sometimes if you're
on a hike and telling time by the sun it'll go under a cloud. Or
sometimes if you're lost and following the stars, it'll cloud up an