Great black hulls lay still and motionless in the water, as if they were
enormous ogres of the deep waiting for human prey to come into their vast
maws; steam-tugs were puffing and darting here and there, in and out
among the shipping, as though they were playing hide-and-seek with each
other; another ferry-boat was just putting out from the dock on the New
York side, the paddle-wheels crunching and grinding the chunks of ice, as
if masticating its food.

In the chilly gloom of the evening, the crowds that swarmed to the
gunwales and peered forward could see something floating in the water; and
though no one could define exactly what it was with the aid of the sight
alone, yet, by a general consent, it was accepted as the form of the
little girl that had fallen overboard.

A second figure was seen working his way toward the nerveless and silent
one.

The two were no more than fairly out of the path of the steamer, which was
gliding so closely by them that any movement of the wheels would have
endangered both.

Among those who forced their way to the side of the boat was the lad who
gave utterance to the words before recorded. It was natural that he should
be deeply interested when his dearest friend was risking his life to save
another. As soon as the lad on the boat caught fair sight of the other, he
shouted,--

"Hello, Tom! do you want any help?"

"Three chaars for the wee one!" called out an Irishman, boiling over with