Jack was no worse off than when in his prison ten feet higher up, it is true.
But what of Lolo?
How was she to manage?
While he was cogitating over this he heard a shrill whistle from below.
He ran to the window.
"Hist, Jack!" cried a familiar voice from the water.
"Hullo!"
"Drop down, Jack," returned Harry's voice. "Here I am, in a boat, as snug as a domestic pest in a railway wrapper."
Comic and tragic were so jumbled up in this startling series of adventures, that Jack scarce knew whether to laugh or to cry.
He did neither.