say:

"Then get busy, pulling! Make it a steady haul, and no jerks, or you'll
hurt Steve more than is necessary. Steady there, Bandy-legs, no hurry,
remember--just a regular increasing pull! Good enough, boys!"

Steve had obeyed instructions, and by the way he worked both feet as
soon as he felt the strain one might think he was practicing swimming
lessons. It must have given him more or less physical pain to feel the
terrible drag of the rope under his arms, but he shut his teeth hard
together, and kept back a groan.

"Now rest a bit, Toby and Bandy-legs!" called out Max. "How about it,
Steve--you moved some, didn't you?"

"Yes yes, quite a little, Max!" cried the other. "Please get busy again
right away. I'm sick of staying in this old quicksand!"

He still clung tenaciously to his steel fishing rod, as though he meant
that it should share his fate. Once more the team ashore started in. Now
their task seemed lighter, as though, having succeeded in dragging their
chum up several inches, with his whole weight now suspended by the rope,
the job was going to be finished in short order.

Soon Steve, crowing joyously, was drawn completely out of the water. He
gave this a last suggestive kick and then dangled there in midair,
spinning around like a teetotum.

"Hand me your rod, Steve," commanded Max. "Then use your arms and pull
yourself up on the limb. After that you can easily hunch along like I