“You’re lying on your back asking silly questions,” answered Toby a trifle gruffly. “Shut up and go to sleep.”
“Don’t you remember what happened?” asked Frank.
Arnold scowled deeply and then an expression of mingled comprehension and fear came over his face, and he started up from the seat. But Toby reached across and thrust him back.
“Don’t do that!” he commanded. “Lie still. We’re taking you home.”
“How—how did I get here?” asked Arnold in a low voice.
“Frank and I pulled you in, of course. How do you feel?”
“All right—I guess.” He seemed to gain reassurance from the feel of the gunwale on which one hand was clasped tightly, and the look of alarm left his face. “I don’t remember much after I called to you fellows,” he said with a shudder. “I thought I was a goner.”
“What was the trouble?” asked Toby. “Did you get tired?”
“Cramp.” Arnold stretched a leg experimentally and winced. “It’s pretty nearly gone now. It was fierce, though. I couldn’t use my left leg at all. And I guess I got frightened. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it. I was trying to get back to the launch.”