It was Mr. Duffy whose enormous frame was floating on the water like an empty cask.
“Br-r-r!” he spluttered, as his head went under and came up again. It was impossible to sink that vast bulk of human frame.
Billie had just sense enough to call out as he struggled to see what had collided with him:
“Keep on floating—we’re—almost—drowning.”
“Hey, hey! Little girl, tired out, are you? Hold on tight. Why, you’ve got a boy there.”
“Yes,” gurgled Billie. “He’s about all—in—don’t move—I must rest.”
Timothy opened his eyes.
“Did I faint?” he asked in a weak, shaky voice.
“Something like it,” called Mr. Duffy. “Hold on, boy, and don’t talk.”
At last Billie’s arm was relieved of the weight which had grown so heavy that she thought every moment it would break. But she had kept Timothy’s nose above the water line, and she breathed a sigh of satisfaction.