[Illustration: _The three boys were scuffling for the possession of a
piece of rope_.]

After some desultory debate they started--the four boys--pushing one
another off the sidewalk, "rooster-fighting," shouting, laughing,
racing through the streets. Mealy Jones longed to have the other boys
observe his savage behavior. He knew, however, that he was not of
them, that he was a sad make-believe. The guilt of the deed he was
doing, oppressed him. He wondered how he could go into crime so
stolidly. Inwardly he quaked as he recalled the stories he had read of
boys who had drowned while disobeying their parents. His uneasiness
was increased by the ever-present sense that he could not cope with
the other boys at their sports. He let them jostle him, and often
would run, after his self-respect would goad him to jostle back. Mealy
was glad when the group came to the deep shade of the woods and walked
slowly.

It was three o'clock when the boys reached the swimming-hole. There
the great elm-tree, with its ladder of exposed roots, stretched over
the water. Piggy Pennington, stripped to the skin, ran whooping down
the sloping bank, splashed over the gravel at the water's edge, and
plunged into the deepest water. Old Abe followed cautiously, bathing
his temples and his wrists before sousing all over. Jimmy Sears threw
his shirt high up on the bank as he stood ankle-deep in the stream.
Piggy's exhilaration having worn off by this time, he picked up a
mussel-shell and threw it at Jimmy's feet. The water dashed wide of
its mark and sprinkled Mealy, who was sitting on a log, taking off his
shoes.

"Here, Piggy, you quit that," said Mealy.