“Leggo my face!” spluttered Magpie, trying to shake Tellurium’s grip loose and grab a trailing willow shoot at the same time. “What yuh tryin’ to do, drown me?”
“Don’t claw me—gimme room!” gasped Tellurium. He lunged toward the bank and shook Magpie’s hold from the willow.
“Danged hippopotamus, tread water!” choked Magpie. “Leggo my arm! If I ever gits you—gurgle—gurgle—on dry land—leggo!”
“What did yuh push me in fer?” wailed Tellurium.
He tried to stand up but the current was too strong and he went pin-wheeling his way down the creek to a sand-bar. Magpie, relieved of Tellurium’s clutches, managed to grab the bank and pull himself out. He wandered down to where Tellurium was pouring the water out of his boots and sat down disconsolately on a log.
“I’d shore admire to know what happened?” he remarked. “Something shore has happened that I ain’t got no light on. Now, that danged little kitten ain’t—huh, I dunno, I dunno.”
“No, it shore ain’t,” agreed Tellurium foolishly. “But if it ain’t, what is? I asks yuh, Magpie, what is?”
“Why ask me?” demanded Magpie.
“Do yuh reckon I’m uh palmist? I know one thing, I’m goin’ over and git my bear. Whatever it is it ain’t no place fer bears. I reckon I’ll have to tame that pet all over again. Let’s go over and interview Bantie.”
Bantie was still standing in the door with his kitten on his arm and he grinned widely at their dilapidated appearance.