bit."

I obeyed him in a dreamy way, getting Bigley's arm over into the boat,
while I knelt down and put mine round him, and held him close to the
side.

"Can you hold on, youngster?" said old Jonas hoarsely. This was to Bob
Chowne, who stared at him wildly, and did not speak.

"Nice chance for me," growled old Jonas. "There, hold fast, my lads.
I'm going to get in over the starn."

The boat rose and fell and rocked as he came round, passed me hand over
hand, to pause by the stern, and I thought he was going to climb in; but
he altered his mind, and went on round by where Bob Chowne clung, held
on with one hand, while he thrust his right arm under the water, and the
next moment he had hoisted Bob right up and rolled him over into the
boat, where he lay for a few moments apparently quite helpless.

"Now, young Duncan," said old Jonas, "you hold him fast. I'll get in
this side. She won't go over."

It was done in a moment; he let himself sink down, and turn, gave a
spring as I turned my head round to watch him; the gunwale of the boat
seemed to go down level with the water, and he was on board, while,
before I could realise it, he was bending over me to get his arms under
poor Big's and drag him into the boat, this time sending the gunwale so
low that a quantity of water came in as well.

Old Jonas set his son up in the stern with his back against the rowlock,
and it was no easy job, for Big was limp, and tremendously heavy; but
the bumping about seemed to do him some good, for, just as I was about
to ask in a voice full of awe if he was dead, poor Bigley uttered a low
groan.

"Hah! He's coming to, then," said old Jonas, panting heavily, as he
seated himself on the middle thwart. "Here, you young doctor, take that
pannikin, and bale out some of that water you're lying in. You don't
want another bath, do you?"

Bob Chowne got up on to his knees in the bottom of the boat, shivering
and blue, and stared wildly at us all in turn.

"Cold, eh?" growled old Jonas. "Well, then, I'll bale, and you two row
to the lugger."

He glanced round at his son, who was showing signs of returning
animation; but it evoked no sympathy before us, whatever he might have
felt, for he only frowned as, in a shivering mechanical way, we two
wretched boys seized an oar apiece, sat down on the wet thwarts and
began to row.

"Now, then," shouted old Jonas, "look where you're going. Pull, doctor!
Easy, captain! That's better."