Then it occurred to him that he might steal ever so cautiously into the tent and carefully, _ever so carefully_, pull Townsend's watch out from under his rough pillow and find out just what time it was. Keekie Joe had heard some wonderful stories about stalking; from all accounts rendered by Pee-wee that scout of scouts had hoodwinked every creature in the animal kingdom, stealing up behind them unawares, and subjecting every variety of bird to nervous prostration.
But Keekie Joe decided not to try his skill at this kind of stalking. For one thing, he had never touched a gold watch before and the thought of it awed him. And for another thing, if Townsend should awake and catch him in the act he would think that his protégé was trying to steal his watch . . .
Keekie Joe could not trust himself in any such stalking exploit and he had no standing capital of good reputation with which to verify his honorable intention in case his bungling hand should slip. He had as good as promised Townsend that he would not go swimming. But also these boys all had to go to school.
I am not saying what I think he should have done; I am simply telling you what he did. He slid silently into the water with his rags clinging to him and started swimming up the river against the ebbing tide. He had a simple, short-sighted, one-track mind. It never occurred to him that by undressing he might return and don his dry clothes again, such as they were. He had always gone in swimming with his rags on and he was his own clothesline; they dried upon his back.
In the water, Keekie Joe was at his best. He swam to shore like a little devil. Then, with all his might and main, he ran northward through the woods keeping close to the shore. This necessitated his swimming through mud and marshy places. But he hurried on, soaked, weary, panting. He was a horrible sight when he reached the boat, dripping with mud, his flesh torn by brambles, his ragged clothing plastered to his poor little form like wall-paper.
He was not good at rowing but fortunately all he had to do was to guide the old punt while the tide carried it down. And so he brought the old boat to the island and pulled it well up on the shore, and tied it with a rope. Then panting, dripping, he groped his way to the tent and looked within. They were all still sleeping peacefully.