s Rectus was only
fourteen, and couldn't possibly feel like a man--unless his looks very
much belied his feelings. My father and mother and sister lived in a
small town some thirty miles from New York, and that was a very good
reason for their not coming to the city just to see me sail away in a
steam-ship. They took a good leave of me, though, before I left home.

I shall never forget how I first became acquainted with Rectus. About a
couple of years before, he was a new boy in the academy at Willisville.
One Saturday, a lot of us went down to the river to swim. Our favorite
place was near an old wharf, which ran out into deep water, and a fellow
could take a good dive there, when the tide was high. There were some of
the smaller boys along that day, but they didn't dive any, and if they
even swam, it was in shallow water near the shore, by the side of the
wharf. But I think most of them spent their time wading about.

I was a good swimmer, and could dive very well. I was learning to swim
under water, but had not done very much in that line at the time I speak
of. We were nearly ready to come out, when I took a dive from a post on
the end of the wharf, and then turned, under water, to swim in shore. I
intended to try to keep under until I got into water shallow enough for
me to touch bottom, and walk ashore. After half a dozen strokes, I felt
for the bottom and my feet touched it. Then I raised my head, but I
didn't raise it out of the water. It struck something hard.

In an instant I knew what had happened. There was a big mud-scow lying
by the side of the wharf, and I had got under that! It was a great flat
thing, ever so long and very wide. I knew I must get from under it as
quickly as I could. Indeed, I could hardly hold my breath now. I waded
along with my head bent down, but I didn't reach the side of it. Then I
turned the other way, but my hands, which I held up, still touched
nothing but the hard, slimy bottom of the scow. I must have been wading
up and down the length of the thing. I was bewildered. I couldn't think
which way to turn. I could only think of one thing. I would be drowned
in less than a minute. Scott would be head of the class. My mother, and
little Helen--but I can't tell what my thoughts were then. They were
dreadful. But just as I was thinking of Helen and mother, I saw through
the water some white things, not far from me. I knew by their looks that
they were a boy's legs.

I staggered towa