n divining his intention, "Come back,
Charley," he called wildly. "It'll break with you, lad. Come back,
come back."

Walter managed to twist his head around until he obtained a glimpse of
what was going on. "Don't try it, Charley," he implored, "or there
will be two of us gone instead of one."

But Charley was smiling now and confident. He knew the kind of tree he
was climbing up. It was a black mangrove and among the toughest of
woods when well seasoned. To him it had become merely a question of
reaching the end of that limb before the mire closed over his chum's
head. Never did sailor go aloft more quickly than he swung himself up
from branch to branch. Quickly he reached the overhanging bough. At
its juncture with the trunk he paused for a second to catch his breath,
then swung himself out on it cautiously, hand over hand. The bough
creaked and cracked ominously, but did not break. Near the end of the
limb he stopped, and throwing a leg over to free his hands, he knotted
one end of the rope to the branch and flung the other end to his chum.

"You'll have to pull yourself out, Walt," he sang down cheerily, "this
limb will not bear two."

Fortunately Walter had managed to keep his arms above the mire. He
caught the rope and began to pull. He had occasion now to bless the
years of hard work that had made his body vigorous and his muscles hard
and strong. Slowly he drew himself up out of the clinging ooze which
closed behind him with a sickening, sucking sound. Once clear of the
mud, it was an easy feat to go up the rope hand over hand and soon he
was standing beside Charley at the foot of the tree where they were
speedily joined by the delighted captain.

"Let us thank God, boys, for your wonderful escape. He put that plan
into Charley's head and gave him the courage and daring to carry it
out," the captain said.

Devoutly the two boys knelt at the foot of the tree, while the old
sailor in simple, uncouth speech, offered up a little prayer of humble
thanks for the deliverance of the two lads he loved so well.

As they arose from their knees, Walter caught Charley's hand and wrung
it vigorously. "You saved my life again, old chum," he cried.

But Charley, embarrassed and blushing like a girl, pulled his hand
away. "I guess we'd better be getting back to camp," he stammered,
eager to change the subject.

"Ever modest are the brave," quoted Walter with a laugh. "But you are
right about gettin