"
We then thought of the old Squire's logging camp on Papoose Pond, the
outlet of which entered Wild Brook about half a mile above where we had
tried to cross it. We knew that there was a cooking stove in the camp
and decided that our best plan was to take Tom there and dry his
clothes. Getting him between us, we tried to make him run, but he seemed
unable to move his feet.
"Run, run, Tom!" we shouted to him. "Run, or you'll freeze!"
He seemed not to hear or care. In our desperation we slapped him and
dragged him along between us. Finally his legs moved a little, and he
began to step.
"Run, run with us!" Addison kept urging.
At last we got him going, although he shook so hard that he shook us
with him. The exertion did him good. We hustled him along and, following
the brook, came presently to a disused lumber road that led to the
logging camp in the woods a few hundred yards from the shore of the
pond. All three of us were panting hard when we reached it, but our wet
clothes were frozen stiff.
We rushed Tom into the camp and, finding matches on a shelf behind the
stovepipe, kindled a fire of such dry stuff as we found at hand.
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