“I’m getting tired.  I can’t keep up much longer,” wailed Grace.

“Rest a moment on your back.  I will keep a hand under your shoulders so you won’t sink.  If only one knew it, it isn’t really possible to sink, provided the lungs are kept well filled with air and no water swallowed.”

“I could think like a thtone if I let mythelf go.”

“Don’t let yourself go.  There is every reason why you should not, and not one why you should.”

“Yeth.”  Tommy turned over on her back.  “Did you ever thwallow thalt water?”

“I never did.”

“Then don’t.  It ith awful.  Oh, I’m tho tired and I’m getting thleepy.”

Harriet roused herself instantly.  She gave Tommy a brisk slap on one cheek.  Tommy cried out and began fighting back, with the result that she was the one to swallow salt water.  Tommy choked, strangled and floundered, still screaming for Harriet to save her.  Instead Harriet let her companion struggle, keeping close to her, but making no effort to help.

“Thave me!”

It was a choking moan.  Uttering it, Tommy disappeared.  Harriet lunged for her and dragged her companion up, and none too soon, for the little girl had swallowed so much salt water that she was really half drowned.  Harriet shook her and pounded her on the back, all the time managing to float on the surface of the water, evidencing that Harriet was something of a swimmer.  Yet she was becoming weary and the sense of feeling was leaving her limbs.  She realized that it was the chill of the Atlantic and that unless she succeeded in restoring her circulation she would soon be helpless.  Just now, however, all her efforts were devoted to the task of arousing Grace.  The little girl began to whimper and to struggle anew.

“I am amazed at you, Tommy,” gasped Harriet.  “You, a swimmer, to swallow part of the ocean!”

“I didn’t.  The ocean thwallowed me—­e.”

“You must work.  Swim, Tommy!”

“I—­I can’t.  I’m tho tired.”  Grace made languid efforts to prove that she was weary.  There could be no doubt of it.  She did not have the endurance possessed by her companion, and even Harriet’s strength was leaving her, because of that terrible numbness in her lower limbs, a numbness that was creeping upward little by little.

“I will help you.  But you must do something for yourself.  Turn over on your stomach.  There.  You need not try to fight it, just make swimming motions, slowly.  Not so fast.  Now you have the pace.”

“I can’t keep it.  My limbth will not work.  My kneeth are thtiff.  Oh, Harriet, I think I’m going to die!”

“Nonsense!  Why, you could swim all night, if necessary, and be up in time for six o’clock breakfast just the same.”

“Breakfatht.  It will be fithh for breakfatht for Tommy Thompthon, I gueth.  Fithh, Harriet, fithh,” mumbled Grace, then ceased swimming.  “Fithh!”