Every once in a while bubbles would come up and I thought it was because that thing I was standing on was sinking lower.

The marsh was just about even with my shoulders and I kept looking sideways at my shoulders all the time, so as to see if I was going down any and sometimes I thought I was.

But I guess I wasn't.
The weeds stood up all around me so I couldn't see, except up in the air and it was like being in a grave with just my head out.

Gee, I thought about the fellows hiking it to Little Valley and beginning work on the house-boat and waiting for me to come, and I could just kind of hear them jollying Pee-wee, and oh, I wished I was there.

I was wondering who the Silver Foxes would elect for their patrol leader and then I got to thinking how nobody, not even my mother and father, would ever know what became of me, because you can't drag a marsh like you can a river.