Roy Blakeley

ow to lead the patrol, that's one sure thing. Mostly I cared about my mother on account of not being able to say good-bye to her. All of a sudden it seemed as if there was more water around me than b

ying on that clump of net moss? Cracky, you'd hardly believe it

Mr. Ellsworth always told us a tomato can didn't look right in the woods. Well, jiminety, that spark plug sure did look funny lying on

d me of people and that kind of cheered me up a little. Then I began to think about it. I remembered what our scoutmaster said about a fellow that's drowning-that he can think as long as his

there, and no motorcycle either. Maybe a fello

didn't care, I was feeling so good. I knew all about the whole thing now, and I felt like kicking myse

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 o

ce 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 t

ourse 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 and you can't see

ny way I'll never say another word against the tide. Often when I saw motor boats stuck on the flats I could h

know, like an army coming to rescue me, slow but sure, and p

nd I knew it began away out in the ocean and it seemed as if it was picking its way all the

w how far I'd have to swim, only I was

and then you'll see how the creek came in the mar

ause it might just peter out, like most of those meadow creeks do, and then I'd be in the marsh again. Oh, boy, safety first. I'd had enough of marshes. Beside

y underclothes. But of course, that wasn't the adventure. It was a dandy adventure, but you have to wai