We've done 'em.
Boats is right away."

"Are they--are they right away, Jem?"

"Yes, my lad, thank goodness!"

Don groaned.

"Don't do that, my lad. You do make me savage when you won't be plucky.
Why, you can swim miles yet, and you shall, as soon as you're rested.
I say, how savage the capen will be when he finds he can't ketch us!"

"Jem, my lad," said Don, quietly; "don't talk to me as if I were a
child. It's very good of you, and--kind--but--but I'm done, Jem--I'm
done."

"You're not!" cried Jem, savagely. "Say that again, and I'll hit you in
the mouth. You arn't done, and it's the way with you. You're the
obsnittest chap as ever was. You've got to swim ashore as soon as
you're rested, and I say you shall."

Don made no reply, but he floated with his nostrils clear of the water,
and smiled as he gazed straight up in the dark sky.

"There. It was time I spoke," continued Jem. "Some chaps loses heart
about nothing."

"Nothing, Jem?"

"Well, next to nothing, my lad. Why, mussy me! What a fuss we are
making about a few hundred yards o' smooth water. I've swum twice as
far as this. Rested?"

Don made no reply.

"Ah, you will be soon. It's the clothes, my lad. Now look here, Mas'
Don. You take my advice. Never you try a long swim again like this
with your clothes on. They makes a wonderful deal of difference."

"Jem," said Don, interrupting him.

"Ay, ay, my lad."

"Are the boats very far away?"

"Well, a tidy bit; say half-mile."

"Then swim ashore and leave me; save yourself."

"Oh, that's it, is it?"

"And tell my mother--"

"Now, look here," cried Jem. "I should look well going and telling your
mother as I left you in the lurch; and my Sally would spit at me, and
serve me right. No, Mas' Don, I've tried it easy with you, and I've
tried it hard; and now I says this: if you've made up your mind to go
down, why, let's shake hands, and go down together, like mates."

"No, no; you must swim ashore."

"Without you?"

"Jem, I can do no more."

"If I leaves you, Mas' Don--Ahoy! Boat!--boat!"

Jem meant that for a sturdy hail; but it was half choked, for just at
that moment Don made a desperate effort to turn and swim, lost his
remaining nerve, and began to beat the water like a dog.

"Mas' Don, Mas' Don, one more try, dear lad, one more try!" cried Jem,
passionately; but the appeal was vain. He, with all his sturdy manhood,
strength hardened by his life of moving heav