“Do you think you can stand it if I row you to the main land?” asked Bob, when it was nearly noon.
“I reckon so, but you’ll have to put me to bed somewhere after that.”
“I’ll take good care of you, Blake.”
“You’ll find my boat over in a hollow back of these rocks.”
Bob procured the craft, and then, exerting all of his strength, carried Blake to it and sat him down in the stern.
Quarter of an hour later they drew up to the spot where Bob had found the other boat. Here a fat farmer was looking around in perplexity for his craft.
“Say, does you vos see mine poats?” he asked.
“Yes, I borrowed it,” said Bob. “I will pay you for its use.”
“Oh, dot’s all right den. I vos dinkin’ it vos drifted avay, ain’t it?”
“It’s over to the other shore. But, tell me, do you live here?”