“Ay, an’ you’ve saved the kitten too!” replied his friend, examining the poor animal.
“It’s dead,” said Shank; “dead as mutton.”
“No, only stunned. No wonder, poor beast!”
With tender care the rescuer squeezed the water from the fur of the rescued. Then, pulling open his vest and shirt, he was about to place the kitten in his bosom to warm it.
“No use doin’ that,” said Leather. “You’re as wet an’ nigh as cold as itself.”
“That’s true. Sit down here,” returned Brooke, in a tone of command which surprised his comrade. “Open your shirt.”
Again Shank obeyed wonderingly. Next moment he gave a gasp as the cold, wet creature was thrust into his warm bosom.
“It makes me shiver all over,” he said.
“Never mind,” replied his friend coolly, as he got up and wrung the water out of his own garments.
“It’s beginning to move, Charlie,” said Shank, after a few minutes.