“Oh, they’re all right,” broke in Fred. “The Gadabout and the skiff were both beyond the point when the storm broke and they had no trouble in keeping to the lee of the point.”
“This fire feels good anyway,” said John, whose long, attenuated frame was trembling with cold, in spite of the warmth which had followed the shower.
“Sorry, boys, that I cannot give you a change,” said the man, smiling dryly as he spoke. As he was a man who weighed at least 190 pounds, while John’s form towered at least six inches higher and his weight was at least seventy pounds less, the idea of either wearing the clothing of the other was so ludicrous that Fred laughed aloud at the suggestion.
“That’s all right,” said John quickly. “All we want is a chance to dry out before the mate gets back.”
“How are you going to get back to Mackinac?”
“I don’t know,” said John ruefully. “We thought that perhaps the mate could get word to the Gadabout and the motor-boat would stop for us.”
“How can he get word to the Gadabout?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Fred. “We don’t know anything about this part of the country. It’s the first time we ever were here. We thought perhaps the captain might know some point where he could signal. It isn’t more than two or three miles across, is it?”
“Not here,” responded the man. “But you are cold and I shouldn’t be surprised if you were both hungry. I’ve seen fellows at your age who sometimes were afflicted in that manner. I’ll put some more wood on the fire and we’ll dry you out and then we’ll see what we can do.”
Placing his hands together in a peculiar manner the man whistled through them and in response, in an incredibly short time, a little Japanese serving man appeared.