“See if you can t-t-think of anythin’ humorous to say now, Tallow. You’ve been unusual funny these few days past.”
“I’d like to have you down here,” says I. “I’ll bet I’d make you think of somethin’ pretty laughable.”
“Duck your head,” says he, still shaking all over like a plate of jelly, “and swim under water to the back of the hotel. You can crawl in through the kitchen window and get out again without anybody knowin’ you’ve b-b-been there.”
I was mad, but there wasn’t anything to do but swallow it and wait for a chance to get even. So I took a sight for the place where I wanted to land and dived.
Swimming under water is all right when you do it for fun and when you do it in water you know all about. But here I wasn’t doing it for fun—far from it—and I didn’t know much about the water. I was pretty confident there weren’t any spiles or boulders between me and shore to split my head against, but I didn’t know. There’s a heap of difference between being pretty sure and knowing. An ounce of know is better than a ton of pretty sure.
I took it as easy and cautious as I could, and after I’d been swimming ahead till I thought my lungs would burst if I didn’t get a breath of air my knees scraped the bottom. I’d got as far as I could go under water. So I crouched down with nothing but my nose and eyes above water, and spied around a bit.
I didn’t see a soul any place, so I crept in nearer, and got out on shore at the back of the hotel. The kitchen window wasn’t far, now, so I made a break for it. When I got to it I stopped again and looked all around as well as inside. It looked safe. If only things were always as safe as they look it would be fine. Wouldn’t it? But they’re not.
I pulled myself up and scrambled inside.
It wasn’t very light in there, but I could see as well as I needed to—at any rate, I thought I could. Anyhow, I found my way across to the shelf and grabbed a large package of matches. Then I turned and scuttled across to the window I’d got in at. Right there was a surprise party for me—about the worst one I ever got. I raised my head above the edge of the window and looked out. While I was doing that a Japanese outside was raising his head above the level of the window to look in. We almost rubbed noses.
It was a close race to see who was most startled, but I guess I won. I figure I did because he wouldn’t have been looking in that way if he hadn’t expected to see something. I wasn’t expecting any sights, and didn’t need any. I could have got along fine without seeing any Japanese just then.