He was feeling so weak and sputtering so on account of his lungs being all filled with smoke, that he couldn’t shout and after a while he drifted up on the bar near Second Bend. Then he got the dugout set right side up on the mud while he bailed it out by splashing in it with his hands and afterwards making them into a cup.
After that it was easy drifting up stream and when he got to about a quarter of a mile below the boathouse, he managed to paddle over to the shore and then he pulled himself along by holding on to the weeds and things.
“You had a pretty narrow escape,” Pee-wee said.
“It was a narrow boat, why shouldn’t he have a narrow escape,” I said; “I had a good wide escape, anyway.”
“Didn’t you have your hat with you to bail with?” somebody asked Artie.
“All I had was my copy of Initiation Drill,” he said.
“Why didn’t you drill a hole in the boat then,” I said.
“What for?” Pee-wee shouted.
“So the water could get out as fast as it came in.”
“What are you talking about? You’re crazy!” he yelled.