"Frozen? I was so cold, Sonny, that I couldn't tell you what my name was, an' layin' there on the timbers with the wind blowin' half a gale didn't tend to make me any warmer. After a while, though, I got to understand that I'd die for sure if somethin' wasn't done, because I counted help couldn't come till I'd drifted ashore, an' that mightn't be much before mornin'. Wa'al, as I figgered it, thinkin' you folks on the ledge couldn't come out to help me owin' to your not havin' a boat, my only chance was to work the raft in toward the shore faster'n the wind was carryin' her." "But how could you do that without oars, sir?" and Sidney was literally trembling with suppressed excitement, as he imagined himself in Mr. Peters' position. "I had lumber enough to make a hundred oars, but no tools with which to put 'em in shape. I got out a piece of plankin', usin' my foot as a thole-pin, an' in that way got the raft workin' more favorably in the wind; but I couldn't raise the plank high enough out of the water. A big wave caught the outer end, an' then I got sich a clip on the stomach as knocked me silly. It looked as if I was pretty nigh my last gasp, an' jest then a sea swept me clean off the timbers. It's a solemn fact, Sonny, that I don't have any idee how I got back to the raft. The next thing I realized, was when Cap'n Eph an' Uncle Zenas brought me inter the tower. But now comes the mean part of it." Mr. Peters paused, and Sidney would have spoken, but that the first assistant checked him with a gesture, as he said sharply: "Don't say a word, Sonny, or my courage won't hold out to tell the whole of the story. Until about midnight I wasn't more'n half sensible of what was goin' on; but after then I could have got up an' gone to work jest as well as I can now, though I felt a bit lazy, an' considerable tired. I was jest mean enough to lay there in bed an' let you three stay on watch all night, when there was nothin' to prevent my doin' a full share of the duty." "But why didn't you get up?" Sidney asked in surprise. "Because I was so all-fired mean, Sonny, that is the reason. I saw that Uncle Zenas was worryin' a good deal about me, an' made up my mind to give him a good dose, so the next time I wanted to start away early he wouldn't dare to say I shouldn't have breakfast till it was ready for all hands. I fixed it with myself that I'd get up sometime this mornin', an' had jest begun to come 'round gradual-like, when the trouble happened, an' 'twixt you an' me, Sonny, I'm to blame for the whole thing. All I ask now is, that I may live long enough to kind'er square up with Cap'n Eph an' Uncle Zenas for my meanness." Sidney was at a loss for words when the first assistant paused as if expecting him to make some comment, and during five minutes or more the two worked in silence. Then Mr. Peters said, as he gave the finishing touches to the lens: