Frank looked around. The sight was peculiar, and as the marsh ran
into an actual swamp, he thought he had seldom seen a more weird
effect. Still, what interested him most of all was the picture of
Ralph, up to his knees in the soft slime that lay concealed under
the dead leaves and green scum.

"I've tried all I could to get out, fellows, but the worst of it
is, when I lift one foot the other only goes that much deeper
down. If a fellow could only get hold of enough stuff to make a
sort of mattress he might roll over on it and do the trick that
way. I'd be trying that if I had daylight, and was alone here,"
remarked the imprisoned boy, calmly.

"Say, I never thought of that. It's a clever idea, all right. Next
time I get stuck I'm going to see how it works," remarked Bones.

"Why not now, since you haven't your rope along. Here's just the
ticket--some old fence rails lying in a heap. Cheer up, comrade,
we'll have you out of that in a jiffy now," sang out Frank,
seizing one of the long, cast-off rails, and dropping it on the
surface of the muck.

Bones fell to along side, and between them they speedily formed a
regular corduroy road out to where Ralph stood, watching the
building with interest.

One of them got on either side. Then, with the aid of other rails
they pried Ralph loose, so that he could crawl over to the
"mattress," and get secure footing. After that nothing was needed
but to walk ashore.