"Selfish, selfish. Here's the Freshman swimming team staggering along——"
"Floundering along, you mean."
"Fishes flounder, and there's no fish on the team, human or otherwise. That's the reason they ought to have a good, able-bodied fish like yourself, scales and all, to help 'em out."
But in spite of Frank's desire to keep away from swimming, other than as a pastime, and to keep in fair condition, he became drawn into it unintentionally. One day, sprinting down the length of the pool to overtake Jimmy, he attracted the attention of Max, the swimming instructor, who kept an eagle eye on the outlook for promising talent.
"Where you learn to svim like dat?" inquired Max as Frank pulled himself out of the water at the end of the pool while Jimmy hung gasping with his exertions on the edge.
"O, paddling around," returned Frank.
"Pretty good paddlin', I guess. Vhat's your name?"
"Armstrong."
"Freshman?"
"Yes."