"Ye be Three Poore Mariners."

Jerry and I stared at each other, and I said:

"You must know that song, too. We used to pretend being marooned,
but we never thought it would really happen."

Then Jerry said suddenly:

"By the way, what's your name, sir?"

"You'll have to row, Jerry," said our man, "because I must keep the
wounded just the way he is." Then he said:

"Some people call me Andrew, but my intimate friends call me 'The
Bottle Man'."




CHAPTER XI


I thought that perhaps it might be a dream after all, because that's
the way things happen in dreams, and that I would wake up and find
it still night and the rain splashing down and poor Greg crying. But
the dinghy was real and so were the slippy slidy wet rocks, and I
had to watch what I was about and not go staring in astonishment at
our man. We all had to be careful about the rocks, and that's why