"The little girl has gone to sleep up there, I'll wager." A scream, followed by a loud splash, startled the passengers on board the "Red Rover." They rushed for the door.
"Tommy's fallen overboard!" yelled Harriet.
Beaching the lower deck they saw one little white hand holding aloft a pitcher, and lower down, scarcely discernible, a bit of tow hair and a freckled nose.
"Thave me!" wailed Tommy.
"We ought to leave you," flung back Margery.

"What's the matter?
Can't you swim ?" "Yeth.

But the pitcher can't." Knowing that Tommy could take care of herself in the water, no one went overboard to her rescue.

Harriet flung out a coil of rope.
"Grab it!" she commanded.

Tommy needed no second invitation to do so.
She grasped the rope with one hand, still clinging to the pitcher with the other and holding it above the water.