"I wisht you had!" said Jonathan.
Billy Topsail got to windward of Jonathan to speak his mind in the old man's ear. It seemed to Billy that Toby's case was hopeless. The lad would freeze. There was no help for it. And the sooner his suffering was over—the better.
"Let un die," Billy pleaded.
Jonathan shook his head and flashed at Billy. Yet Billy had spoken kindness and plain wisdom. But Jonathan was in a rage with him. Billy heard his icicles rattle. And Jonathan glared in wrath through the white fringe of his brows.
"Go to!" he exclaimed.
"My pants is froze stiff!" said Toby in amazement. "That's comical! I can't move me legs." And then he whimpered with pain and misery and fear. "I'll freeze stiff!" said he. "I'll die!"
It was coming fast.
"You can't save un," Billy insisted, in Jonathan's ear. "He'll freeze afore dark. Let un go."
"I'll never give up," Jonathan protested.