"Keep them," I said, "I'll get them when I come down, if that's necessary. It's—it's you and I and Skinny, Bert—sink or swim—live or die—it's the three of us. I'm ready."
CHAPTER XXXI
TELLS ABOUT THE OLD PASSAGEWAY
Honest, as sure as I'm sitting here, I would have gone down first— after the way that fellow spoke to me. It just sent thrills through me. And only a couple of days before, I didn't like him and I thought he didn't trust Skinny.
I grabbed hold of him and I said, "Bert, I—just a second—please—I have to tell you—if I don't see you again—I mean so I can speak to you—I have to tell you, you're a hero—"
But he jerked my hand off his sleeve. He didn't say anything, but just jerked my hand off his sleeve. And I stood there holding the paddle, and I could hear the water rushing in the valley, and I was breathing hard and all trembling.
I called, "Bert! Are you all right, Bert?" But he didn't answer. Then I went to the edge and I was all shaking from head to foot. But I was ready. It was all dark down there and I couldn't see. Anyway, I was ready.
"Bert!" I called, and I just waited. I could hear the water rushing through the valley and sometimes sounds like trees breaking. And I heard a tree-toad moaning—it seemed funny to hear that.
"Bert!" I called. I felt cold, and my wrists were all tingling. "Bert!"
Then I stuck the paddle in the mud and hung my hat on the end of it. Just then I heard a voice. It sounded strained and not like Bert's, as if it couldn't speak on account of pain.