"Well, how did you like it, Jerry?"

"Talk to me about your shooting the whirlpool at Niagara in a barrel!
That was bad enough for me! I swallowed enough water to float a ship!
And here we are yet, each perched on a measly old slippery rock, in the
middle of the rapids. Say! tell me about that, will you, Frank? How are
we going to get ashore?"

The situation was comical as well as tragical. Just as Jerry said, each
of the late inmates of the overturned bullboat, after being buffeted
about furiously for several minutes, had succeeded in wildly scrambling
on to an exposed rock.

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."