"Right. Now then, I'm going to row gently along this line until
we're dead in between the two. Get it as exact as you can--for
your own sake."

"Steady!" said Bill warningly. "Back a little .... a little more
.... a little more forward again .... Right." Antony left the
oars on the water and looked around. As far as he could tell,
they were in an exact line with each pair of landmarks.

"Now then, Bill, in you go."

Bill pulled off his shirt and trousers, and stood up.

"You mustn't dive from the boat, old boy," said Antony hastily.
"You'll shift its position. Slide in gently."

Bill slid in from the stern and swam slowly round to Antony.

"What's it like?" said Antony.

"Cold. Well, here's luck to it."

He gave a sudden kick, flashed for a moment in the water, and was
gone. Antony steadied the boat, and took another look at his
landmarks.

Bill came up behind him with a loud explosion. "It's pretty
muddy," he protested.

"Weeds?"