Breathing hard, Davy climbed to the ledge where his clothes lay. He wrapped a large towel around his lanky, shivering body and rubbed his hands briskly. Now that it was over, he felt good. He'd made up his mind to dive and nothing had stopped him -- not the dangerous rocks beneath the crashing sea, the chilly Tuesday dawn, or the possibility of Mike's and Peter's roaring anger. ( Davy lives with his 2 best friends Mike and Peter. They live and work in the country side.)

Davy knew the risk and he feared it. One badly angled dive and he could split his head wide open, as the loony kid had done six years age. Since then people had stayed away from the high rock ledge.

Having dressed in the privacy of the overhanging boulder, Davy wrapped his wet trunks in the towel and hurried toward the road, hoping mike hadn't waken yet. But Mike had seen the dive and was waiting for him -- a tough, solid figure in the doorway. His eyes were dark in his lined face his hands were large, the hands of a man who could hammer and saw -- and wallop too. Davy shrank back, but Mike said quietly, "Come in, Davy, and eat your breakfast. I'm not going to get mad -- that don't work. You used to be a steady teen. Reckon it's your age. But those rocks are dangerous. Use the wharf."

Davy sneered. " The wharf's for the vacationers."

Mike grinned. " Maybe so, " he said. "Well -- be careful, Davy."

" I will, Mike. I promise."

As Davy walked past him into the kitchen, he heard Peter say, " Now tell me who did this loony stunt." Don't ask me, he thought. How could he explain?

It had begun the day before, on Monday, while he was working at his summer job -- repairing sagging doors, window sashesand floor in the city folk's cottages. This particular afternoon he was nailing down the last porch step at the Frampton cottage and stealing glances at the Frampton's lovely daughter, Lindsy, who was serving cake and lemonade to friends on the lawn nearby. Suddenly, above the gay chatter and laughter, Davy heard the voice of Micky Dolenz, a rival admirer of Lindsy, saying, " Nobody's tried the rocks ever since that guy got himself killed."

"Who'd want to?" Lindsy asked, pouring lemonade.

Davy stood up and pushing back a lock of dark brown hair, said, " I ain't afraid to try them." Then he realized what he had said, and sweet broke out on his forehead.

Lindsy looked up quietly and Micky peered at him as he lighted a cigarette. " Ever do it?" Micky said.

"No," Davy said slowly, "but I'm not afraid to try."

Micky flung the dead match away and looked at the others. " He talks a bit," he said.

Davy wiped his moist hands on the dungarees and knelt to finish his work. Something soft rushed against his arm and he looked up to see Lindsy holding a glass of lemonade. " You must get awfully thirsty working in the sun. Here."

Davy gulped down the cool drink and handed her the glass. " Thanks -- Lindsy."

Micky said loudly. " If he wants a drink he can always go around to the kitchen."

Lindsy lifted her chin defiantly and looked at Davy. " You want another?"

Davy shook his head and gripped the handles of his hammer, swung it down hard. I'll show him, He thought I'll show them all.

Now, after a hasty breakfast with Mike and Peter, he went back to the beach and waited. When Lindsy appeared in her yellow bathing suit, he called to her and waved. She looked up and waved back, and suddenly Davy lost his head. A wild hammering strated in his chest, and he scrambled to the uppermost jutting boulder about 30 feet above the water. He would make it -- he had to make it. He had done it once this morning and he could do it again.

A crowd had gathered, and the city boys on the wharf were watching too. Davy tensed his muscles ready for the dive.

Then he heard a girl cry: Don't -- don't do it, Davy!" He looked down and saw Lindsy holding out her arms to him, begging him to stop. Davy started at her. " Come down," she cried. " Please, Davy, come down!"

The anguish in her voice caused him to hesitate and then step back. But Micky shouted, " What's the matter -- you chicken out?" he clenched his fists and stepped into diving position again. He couldn't back out now. He didn't want to. He knew he could make the dive.

" Davy..." There was fear in Lindsy's voice. " Davy, please don't dive," she called.

He sat down to keep from diving, His head in his hands. From below came laughter of the city boys, the strident hoot of Micky louder than the rest. Davy's palms were wet as he fought back the impulse to leap and dive, no matter what Lindsy wanted.

When he looked down, the crowd was leaving. Only Micky and Lindsy stood watching as he came down the rocks -- slowly for he was suddenly exhausted. They walked toward him -- Lindsy pale and close to tears, Micky smiling condescendingly. " You looked like a champ on that one," Micky taunted.

Davy clenched his fists, but Lindsy laid her hand on his arm and he slowly relaxed.

He wished he could tell her how it was -- that it was harder to let Micky think he was yellow than it would have been to dive. but he couldn't explain it exactly, the different kind of courage it had taken. Any kid could have taken the dare and dived off the cliff, but it took -- well -- a man to let himself be ridiculed for something no one would understand.

" I wasn't afraid," Davy said, " I wasn't scared of diving."

" I know," she said, and slipped her arm through his. "but what you did was braver." They walked off down the beach arm in arm.