"Yes, I think I could do that," he said at last. "Let us see if we can find a plank."
There was nothing of the sort along the shore, though they searched it for some distance; but opposite the foundry they came upon a pile of the square wooden sand-boxes in which castings are made. Stewart, when he saw them, chuckled with satisfaction.
"Just the thing!" he said. "Providence is certainly on our side to-night!"
"I hope so!" breathed the girl, and between them they carried one of the boxes down to the edge of the water.
Then, after a moment's hesitation, Stewart sat down and began to take off his shoes.
"We shall have to get rid of our clothing," he said, in the most matter-of-fact tone he could muster. "There is nothing heavier than clothes when they get water-soaked. Besides, we've got to keep them dry if we can. If we don't, we shall nearly freeze to death after we leave the water—and they'll betray us a mile off!"
The girl stood for a moment staring out across the river. Then she sat down with her back to him.
"You are quite right," she agreed, quietly, and bent above her shoes.
"We'll turn the box upside down and put our clothes upon it," went on Stewart, cheerfully. "They will keep dry there. The water isn't very cold, probably, but we shall be mighty glad to have some dry things to get into once we are out of it."
She did not reply, and Stewart went rapidly on with his undressing. When that was finished, he rolled his trousers, shoes and underclothing into a compact bundle inside his coat, and tied the sleeves together.