“I dunno what you can do for these girls,” said the man. “I'd git out and push off the boat, but I don't dare with them aboard.”
But Hiram's mind had not been inactive, if he was standing in seeming idleness. Sister tugged at his sleeve again and whispered:
“Have they got to stay there and drown, Hi?”
“I guess not,” he returned, slowly. “Let's see: this old sycamore leans right out over them. I can shin up there with the aid of the big grapevine. Then, if I had a rope——”
“Shall I run and get one?” demanded Sister, listening to him.
“Hullo!” exclaimed Hiram, speaking to the man in the boat.
“Well?” asked the fellow.
“Haven't you got a coil of strong rope aboard?”
“There's the painter,” said the man.
“Toss it ashore here,” commanded Hiram.