There in midstream they sat, dripping wet, and with the foaming water
surrounding them on all sides. In spite of his recent scare, Frank could
not help laughing.
"What ails you? Perhaps you think I look funny?" exclaimed Jerry, who
had received a few bruises, and was not feeling quite as cheerful as
usual.
"Well, if you could only see yourself just now, you couldn't help
laughing. Do you know you just put me in mind of that little god of good
luck, Billikin!" called Frank, and in spite of his soreness Jerry had to
grin in sympathy.
"Well, all right, then; there are two of us, and I guess you look as
silly as I do. But there's that fellow, Will, getting his work in, as
usual. A nice pair of geese we'll look like in his book of martyrs."
"Oh, that doesn't bother me one little bit just now. All I'm thinking
about is how under the sun we're going to get out of this pickle," said
Frank, sweeping his hand around, as if to call attention to the angry
water that leaped and boiled in a frenzy of eagerness to get at its
expected victims.
"Can't swim to the shore, that's sure.
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