"
Mickey was unaccustomed to the water. He waded in with the assurance he
had seen the others use, but suddenly he cried: "Gee boys, I'm sucking
right down!"
Then on his ears fell a deafening clamour. "Help! Help! Quicksands!
Mickey's sinking! Help him!"
Mickey threw out his arms. He grabbed wildly; while a force, seemingly
gentle but irresistible, sucked him lower and lower, and with each inch it
bore him down, gripped tighter, and pulled faster. When he glanced at the
boys he saw panic in their faces, and he realized that he was probably
lost, and they were terror stricken. The first gulp of tepid shore water
that strangled him in running across his gasping lips made him think of
Peaches. Struggling he threw back his head and so saw a widespreading
branch of a big maple not far above him. All that was left of Mickey went
into the cry: "Junior! Bend me that branch!" Junior swiftly climbed the
tree, crept on the limb, and swayed it till it swept the water, then
Mickey laid hold; just a few twigs, and then as Junior backed, and the
branch lifted higher and higher, Mickey worked, hand over hand, and
finally grasped twigs that promised to stand a gentle pull.
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