The guide gripped Stacy by the collar and dragged him from his victim, while Walter was helping Ned up. Ned was purple in the face. He had been under water about as long as was good for him, though not quite long enough to suit the fat boy. A few seconds more, however, and Rector would have thrown Chunky, whereupon it would have been the fat boy's turn to swallow some water.
"I—I slipped," explained Ned between chokes.
"So I observed," replied Stacy solemnly.
"That was very rough and ungentlemanly, Stacy," rebuked the Professor.
"Rough on Ned, yes, sir. You would have thought so if I'd been sitting on your head under water."
"Never mind, Prof—Professor. I'll take—take care of him," coughed Rector.
"You tried to a little while ago. Mr. Vaughn, who won that bout?"
"You win on points," laughed the guide.
"If I had been a fish I'd have won in every other way. I'll tell you what, Ned. You said I was the lazy man and I ought to do the fishing. I'll do it and give you a chance to show how active you are. I will fix up a hook and line, then you jump in the water and swim around the bait just like a trout. You can make a grab for the hook once in a while it you want to. If I catch you by the upper lip I'm a good fisherman. If I don't, you are a good fish. What do you say?"
The others did the saying before Rector had a chance to speak. Chunky's proposition was too much even for the gravity of Professor Zepplin, whose body shook with laughter.