"My, Bobby, but I was glad to see you here!" Jimmy exclaimed through his
chattering teeth. "I was afraid you were done for! I was afraid it
carried you under when it turned."
"I was afraid you were done for, too!" and there was thanksgiving in
Bobby's voice. "How did it happen you got into the water? Did the ice
hit the skiff?"
"I don't know how it happened," said Jimmy. "I don't think the ice hit
the skiff, but it all came so suddenly I don't know."
"Well, here we are, and out there's the boat, and we've got to get it,"
declared Bobby. "I'm going for it."
"No, let me go. I'm wet anyhow, and I'm all right for it," Jimmy
protested. "I might have brought it in with me, but I didn't see it."
"I'm going," declared Bobby, with an accent that left no doubt he was,
as he pulled off his clothes, and his sealskin boots. "You've had your
dip, and I'm going to have one now--the first of the year."
"It's pretty cold," Jimmy cautioned. "I've been in, and I'm used to it,
and don't mind it."
But Bobby was in, and swimming for the skiff. It was, fortunately, not
above fifty or sixty feet away, for the whole occurrence had taken place
within a very few minutes' time, and the boat had not yet had time to
drift beyond reach.
A few strokes carried Bobby to the submerged skiff. He secured the
painter, which was attached to the bow, and with some hard tugging
reached the iceberg, and climbed up with Jimmy's assistance.
"You'd better take off your things and wring 'em out, while I dress,"
Bobby suggested, as he drew his clothes on.
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