"Better not," said Jack, who was the more cautious of the two. "You might be too tired to swim back."
"Well, then, I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll swim out to the middle and back again, and that'll be just the distance for the race."
"All right! Here goes!" assented Jack.
And with a plump! plump! the two boys, like two gigantic bull-frogs, went head first into the water, coming up again three or four yards away, with dripping heads and blinking eyes, and striking out vigorously toward the centre of the Arm.
"Ah, but it's cold!" exclaimed Frank, half gasping.
"You bet," concurred Jack, very heartily—"cold as ice! What business has the water to be so cold on such a broiling day as this?"
"Oh, it's just a little way it has," said Frank. "But cold or not cold, I'm going out to the middle."
And with a powerful overhand stroke he ploughed his way through the rippled brine, his shoulders gleaming white as he bent to his work.
Jack, using the ordinary breast stroke, kept close up to him, and they worked too hard to do much talking until the centre of the Arm was reached, and they could see the whole beautiful sheet of water from end to end.
Then they paused, and Frank, saying he was beginning to feel tired, turned over on his back for a little rest, Jack forthwith imitating his example.