I went up like a rocket."
"You looked very much like a rocket," sniffed Pete. "We saw your long legs
hanging down and thought that something must have pulled you out of the
boat."
"Something did," replied John dryly.
"What was it?" demanded Pete.
"The force of gravitation. I had all I could do to make this shore, let me
tell you. I had on sneakers and I put in my best work, for I wanted to get
on this side of the channel. At first I thought I was not going to make it
but I did at last and here I am."
"Are you hurt any?" asked Fred.
"Hurt? No. I'm as sound as I was when we started."
"You may be as sound," laughed Fred, relieved now by the assurance that
John was not injured, "but you're a woe-be-gone looking specimen. I think
even you would laugh, String, if you could see yourself. You're like the
definition of a line that Mr. Strong gave us in mathematics. You're the
shortest distance between two points, a length without breadth or
thickness."
"I've heard those words before," said John sharply. "I wish somebody could
get up something new if he wants to make remarks concerning my physique.
I'm not the one to blame if it doesn't suit you.
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