The sun was up now and the light was brighter. The last shred of mist was gone from the river.
“FOR A FEW SECONDS THE TWO GAZED IN SILENCE.”
“It startled me, that was all,” he said. “It would startle any man—Uncle Jim himself, even.”
He waded until the swift water was halfway between his belt and his shoulders, then plunged forward and swam out and up toward the red pirogue. He hadn’t far to go, but now the current was against him. He made it in a few minutes, however. He gripped a gunnel of the big dugout with both hands and hoisted himself high and looked inboard. At the same moment the occupant of the strange craft sat up and stared at him with round eyes. For a few seconds the two gazed in silence.
“Who are you?” asked the occupant of the red pirogue.
“I’m Ben O’Dell,” replied the youth in the water, smiling encouragingly and brushing aside a bang of wet hair. “I live on the point when I’m not away downriver at school. I was surprised when I first saw you—so surprised that I upset and had to swim.”
“Is that O’Dell’s Point?” asked the other.
“Yes. You can’t see the house for those big willows on the bank.”
“Are you Mrs. O’Dell’s boy?”