The splashing ceased, each girl starting forward with her own
particular stroke: Tommy swimming frog-fashion, Margery blowing,
puffing, and groaning, paddling like a four-footed animal.

"Oh, help!" she moaned.

"I'm glad I'm not tho fat ath you are," observed Tommy to the puffing
Margery.

"That will do, Tommy! Buster is quite as well able to take care of
herself as are you. I've touched bottom! Here we are, girls. Oh, I am
so glad!"

"Where ith it? I can't thee the bottom."

"Stop swimming, and you'll feel it," suggested Jane, who, having
reached the shore, waded out of the water and ran, laughing, up the
bank. "My stars, what a mess!"

One by one the others emerged from the cold water and stood shivering
on the beach.

"Wring out your clothes," directed Miss Elting. This, some of them
were already doing. Margery sat down helplessly. Harriet assisted her
to her feet.

"You mustn't do that. You surely will catch cold. Keep moving, dear,"
ordered Harriet.