THE TIGHT PLACE

After that I made up my mind I wouldn't think any more about living and
then I was satisfied, kind of. 'Cause as long as you know you've got to
die, what's the difference. They could get another fellow to lead the
patrol, that's one sure thing. Mostly I cared about my mother on
account of not being able to say good-bye to her. All of a sudden it
seemed as if there was more water around me than before. Up to that
time it was mushy, kind of, but not much water. But now it was more
like water all around me and I noticed a little bunch of net moss near
me. Maybe you don't know what net moss is. It's moss that grows in
swamps. Well, what do you think I saw lying on that clump of net moss?
Cracky, you'd hardly believe it, but it was a spark plug. And it looked
funny to see it there.

If you're not a scout maybe you don't know anything about camping, but
it's one of our rules not to defile the woods with rubbish and Mr.
Ellsworth always told us a tomato can didn't look right in the woods.
Well, jiminety, that spark plug sure did look funny lying on that
piece of net moss. It floated right near my shoulder and I lifted it
off and, oh, crinkums, but it made me 'think of Bridgeboro.

It was almost the same as if it was a fellow come to rescue me, as you
might say. It was just because it didn't belong there, I guess. Of
course, I knew it couldn't rescue me, but it reminded me of people and
that kind of cheered me up a little. Then I began to think about it. I
remembered what our scoutmaster said about a fellow that's drowning--that
he can think as long as his head is out of water. And this was like
drowning, only slower. I was wondering how that spark plug got there.