“But now you're getting chilled,” and he turned from the lasher and looked at Tom's chattering jaws.
“Oh, it's nothing. I'm used to being wet.”
“But you may just as well be comfortable if you can. Here's this rough Jersey which I use instead of a coat; pull off that wet cotton affair, and put it on, and then we'll get to work, for we have plenty to do.”
After a little persuasion Tom did as he was bid, and got into the great woolen garment, which was very comforting; and then the two set about getting their skiffs back into the main stream. This was comparatively easy as to the lighter skiff, which was soon baled out and hauled by main force on to the bank, carried across and launched again. The tub gave them much more trouble, for she was quite full of water and very heavy; but after twenty minutes or so of hard work, during which the mutual respect of the labourers for the strength and willingness of each other was much increased, she also lay in the main stream, leaking considerably, but otherwise not much the worse for her adventure.
“Now what do you mean to do?” said the stranger. “I don't think you can pull home in her. One doesn't know how much she may be damaged. She may sink in the lock, or play any prank.”
“But what am I to do with her?”
“Oh, you can leave her at Sandford and walk up, and send one of Hall's boys after her. Or, if you like, I will tow her up behind my skiff.”
“Won't your skiff carry two?”
“Yes; if you like to come I'll take you, but you must sit very quiet.”
“Can't we go down to Sandford first and have a glass of ale? What time is it?—the water has stopped my watch.”