But May kept on. By this time the water was on a level with her chest, and she struck out boldly. She was a fearless swimmer and the distance was short, but as she swam along she could not help thinking, uneasily, "I wonder if I can manage both!"
When she reached them Philip was doing his utmost, in his fright, to drown himself and his companion, and must have succeeded in doing so if May had not arrived. She grasped him by the back, and they rose to the surface, where she made him understand that he must loose his hold of his companion. This he did and clung to May instead, plunging, struggling, and screaming, but she was equal to him, and by scolding, persuading and even threatening him she kept him afloat until the other boy, who could swim very well, recovered his breath, then together they got Philip ashore.
"I couldn't have held him a minute longer," gasped the boy, when they were on land again. "Philip hung hold of me so—why, I should think he must have been as strong as ten men—and he grabbed me every time I tried to swim a stroke and pulled me down. Oh, it was awful!"
"I thought you could swim," said May, "else I'd have been there sooner."
She didn't say "Philip told me he could swim," and for the first time since their acquaintance began, Philip appreciated May's forbearance and realized that the "girl-boy," "coward," and "sissy," had returned his evil conduct with good. His shame would have increased had he known that he was indebted to a girl for his safety.
"You're a good swimmer," said Philip's companion.
"I ought to be," said May, beginning to wring blouse and knickerbocker to get rid of the water. "Father taught my brother and me to swim when we were four years old, and he says we took to the water as naturally as Newfoundland puppies. How do you feel, Philip?" May added, with an anxious glance at Philip, who had not spoken, and who stood at her side, shivering, and looking blue and pinched about his nose and mouth.
"Queer," Philip replied, faintly.
"You must move around," May said, taking Philip's hands and chafing them smartly. "The best thing to do is to start for home. Wring yourself out a little, Philip; then we'll go."