“How are you going to get across the creek?” Harry queried.
“Wade or swim, of course. It’s a hot day!”
And while Tom, Harry and the others ran on toward the bridge, Joe Strong, coming to the edge of the creek, which at this point was deeper and wider than at any other, waded out without a moment’s hesitation.
For a moment his chums watched him, fascinated. Then they shook their heads, and kept on toward the bridge.
“He sure has got nerve!” asserted Henry.
“Yes, Joe’s there with it every time,” added Tom. “I wish I dared do that. But if I got wet with all my clothes on, I’d be in for a good scolding when I got home.”
“Joe may be, too—or worse,” said Charlie. “I hear that he and Deacon Blackford don’t get along any too well of late. He’s given Joe several touches of the whip and strap, and Joe’s not a fellow to stand much of that sort of treatment.”
“I wouldn’t blame him for not standing it,” commented Henry. “Deacon Blackford may mean all right, but we all know he’s totally ashamed to have it known what Joe’s father and mother were. As if it could be a disgrace to have had a mother who was a dandy circus rider, and a father who was a top-notcher when it came to magic. I’d be proud of it if my folks were that sort.”
“So would I,” added Harry.
“That’s where Joe gets his nerve,” remarked Tom. “Nerve to do just what he did now—swim the creek.”