"Let her go!" sang out Artie, as he stepped into the water, holding up his end of the raft.
With the best intentions in the world, Fred and Ward shoved. The raft caught Artie under the chin and he went over backward. Of course he was in shallow water, but it was as wet as any other kind would have been and when he rose, sputtering and wrathful, Fred made an unfortunate remark.
"You ought to have put on your bathing suit," said he.
"I would have, if I'd known you were going to be so dumb," Artie returned angrily.
"Anyway, it floats," said Ward, pointing to the raft bobbing gently up and down.
Sure enough, it did float, and all the boys were eager to climb on it. Artie, who could certainly get no wetter than he was, scrambled on it and it sank a few inches with his added weight, but still floated.
"Ward's too fat—let me try," urged Joe Anderson.
He waded into the water—he had taken off his shoes and stockings when the others had—and Albert followed him. In spite of Artie's warnings, they insisted on climbing aboard. As a result, they found themselves sitting in water up to their waists.
"Didn't I tell you?" Fred scolded.