I surely didn't like it, but saw what I'd better do.

He was facing down stream, turned half away from me, and I reckoned the water was about four feet deep.

I'd grab his foot and pull him in.

Then I'd get away while he was floundering about, while if he was too quick and gripped me, we'd be equal in the water and he'd have no rocks to throw.
"I drifted on until I could reach him and seized his foot, but the rest didn't work out as I thought.

Steve didn't slip into the water; he kept on his feet and screamed." "I suppose you mean he shouted," Thirlwell suggested.
"No, sir--I mean _screamed_; like a jack-rabbit in a trap.