“Get rid of the skirts,” said Nancy, struggling to unfasten her own. “You can do it—if you try. There! mine’s gone.”
“Oh, my—blub! blub! blub!” came from poor Jennie, as she went under.
Nancy reached and caught her by the hair. Both their caps had floated away. She dragged her chum to the surface and held her until she got her breath again.
Meanwhile Nancy was trying to undo the fastenings of Jennie’s clothes; and she succeeded after a time.
“Oh, dear, me!” she gasped. “I never wished to be a boy so much before.”
“Well, even a boy would find himself somewhat mussed up here in the middle of the river,” sobbed Jennie.
“But he’d have a knife in his pocket, and could cut his clothing off,” returned Nancy, with some vigor.
In these few moments that they had been out of the boat the current, of course, had carried them down stream. But now, partially relieved of their clinging garments, they wanted to strike out for shore. But which shore?
“I believe we’re nearer the westerly side,” said Jennie.
“If we swim over there we won’t know where to go to dry off and get clothes. And there’ll be an awful time at the school,” said Nancy.