"Of course," cried Fred. "What else? Swim nearer and I'll help you up. Mind, Toddie, we don't capsize."
Toddie held the helm grimly amidships, and sat on the gunwale, and in a moment more Fred had pulled a lad apparently a year or so older than himself in over the bows.
A tallish, gentlemanly-looking boy, dressed in a dripping kilt, and with a strongly English accent.
"It's awfully go-go-good of you," he began. "Oh," he added, "you have a li-li-little la-la-lady on board. Good evening, m-m-miss. The tide was r-r-rising over the rocks, and soon would have drowned me."
Then he raised his hand as if to pull his cap off, but there was no cap there.
"I do-do-don't s-s-stutter, mind," he said, "it is only the co-co-cold."
And Toddie felt she could have cried for this handsome boy, whose teeth were chattering in his head.
"Mammy Mop will soon wa'm oo," said Toddie consolingly.
"Oh, thanks! And may I take an oar? Thanks awfully."
Before the boys had beached the boat and hauled her up the stranger had quite recovered his speech.