“You are a brave fellow, Tony!” said Frank, warmly, as he grasped the wet hand of his friend.

“I am very wet and cold, whatever else I may be,” replied Tony, trying to laugh, while his teeth chattered so that he could hardly speak.

“You had better go home; you will catch cold,” continued Frank.

“We must wait for the fellows.”

“No, you shall take six of the Zephyr’s crew, and pull home as fast as you can, and we will wait for the rest.”

“We can do no more good here; so we may as well go.  Thank you for your offer, Frank, and I will accept it.  If you like I will take Fred Harper to steer down, for I should like to pull an oar myself to warm up with.”

“Certainly;” and Frank detailed six of his club, including Fred, who seated themselves in the Butterfly.

“I don’t know about those rocks, Tony,” said Fred, as he grasped the tiller ropes.

“The water is so high, that there is no danger, I will have an eye to the passage when we get to it,” replied Tony, as he took his old place at the bow oar.

The Butterfly pushed off, and in a few moments after passed the dangerous rocks in safety.  Her crew pulled with energy, and it is quite likely that they got warm before they reached the boat-house.

It was some time before the rest of the Butterfly’s crew returned to the rocks where they had landed.

“Where’s Tony?” asked one of them, a boy of fourteen, but so small in stature that his companions had nicknamed him “Little Paul,” of whom we shall have more to say by and by.

“They have gone home; we sent six of our fellows with them.  They were too wet and cold to stay here,” replied Frank.  “You can return in our boat.”

“The gentleman wants to see Tony very much.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Walker; it would do your heart good to hear him speak of Tony.”

“I dare say; but Tony is worthy of all the praise that can be bestowed upon him.  How is the lady?”

“She is nicely, and she thinks Tony is an angel.  She declares that a dozen strong men could have done no more for them.”

“She is right; you did all that could have been done by any persons.  The Butterfly’s first laurel is a glorious one, and I can congratulate you on the honors you have won.”

“Thank you, Frank,” said Little Paul, modestly.  “I am sorry you were not with us to share the honors.”

“We should have been, if it hadn’t been for Tim Bunker,” said Charles Hardy, a little sourly.

Tim had gone with the Butterfly, or Charles would not have dared to make such a remark.

“And if you had had your way, we shouldn’t have come when we did,” added William Bright, smartly.

“What do you mean, Bill?”

“Didn’t you protest against passing the rocks.”

“I did, because it was directly in opposition to Captain Sedley’s orders.”