Rodney thrust his pole backward as one would thrust a spear and the butt hit the other boy full in the chest, knocking him off the slippery log into the water.
Squirming and spluttering, he tried to regain his feet but, instead, sank deeper and deeper.
He had fallen into a quagmire!
By the time Rodney had recovered his self-possession Conrad had sunk to his chin. The delay of another minute and he would have disappeared from this story.
Rodney ran back and reached out his pole. The 98 other seized it and was pulled to safety, covered with mud.
The boys stood looking at each other. Conrad said nothing, but looked more sullen than ever, though his blazing wrath was well extinguished. Finally Rodney spoke.
“Why did you try to kill me?”
“Och! me, I hate you.”
“What for?”
“You, you a paleface.”