Not a word had passed between them

Not a word had passed between them, and neither spoke until Shad had readjusted his shirt, when, by way of opening conversation, Bob remarked:
"You'm wet, sir."
"Naturally," admitted Shad. "I've been in the Bay, and the bay water is surprisingly wet."
"Aye," agreed Bob, "'tis that."
"And surprisingly cold."
"Aye, 'tis wonderful cold."
"And I'm profoundly grateful to you for pulling me out of it."
"'Twere fine I comes up before your canoe founders, or I'm thinkin' you'd be handy t' drownded by now."
"A sombre thought, but I guess you're right. A fellow couldn't swim far or stick it out long in there," said Shad, waving his arm toward the dark waters. "I'm sure I owe my life to you. It was lucky for me you saw me."
"'Tweren't luck, sir; 'twere Providence. 'Twere th' Lord's way o' takin' care o' you."
"Well, it was a pretty good way, anyhow. But where did you drop from? I didn't see you till you threw me that line a few minutes ago."
"I were passin' t' wind'ard, sir, when I sights you, an' not knowin' who 'twere, I sails close in till I makes you out as a stranger, an' then you goes down an' I picks you up."
"That sounds very simple, but it was a good stunt, just the same, to get me the line and come around in this chop the way you did, and then haul me aboard before I knew what you were about--you kept your head beautifully, and knew what to do--and you only a kid, too!" added Shad, in surprise, as the moonlight fell full on Bob's face.
"A--kid?" asked Bob, not quite certain what "kid" might be.
"Yes--just a youngster--a boy."
"I'm seventeen," Bob asserted, in a tone which resented the imputation of extreme youth. "You don't look much older'n that yourself."
"But I am--much older--I'm eighteen," said Shad, grinning. "My name's Trowbridge--Shad Trowbridge, from Boston. What is your name? Let's get acquainted," and Shad extended his hand.
"I'm Bob Gray, o' Wolf Bight," said Bob, taking Shad's hand.
"Not Ungava Bob?" exclaimed Shad.
"Aye, they calls me Ungava Bob here-abouts sometimes."
"Why, I was on my way to Wolf Bight to see you!"
"T' see me, sir?"
"Yes, I came up from Fort Pelican to Porcupine Cove with two trappers named Blake and Matheson, and they told me about you. They said I might induce you to take a trip with me."
"A trip with you, sir?"
"Yes. I want to take a little canoe and fishing trip into the country, and Blake and Matheson suggested that you might have two or three weeks to spare and could go along with me. I'll pay you well for your services. What do you think of it?"
"I'm--not just knowin'," Bob hesitated. "I leaves for my trappin' grounds th' first o' August t' be gone th' winter, an'--I'm thinkin' I wants t' stay home till I goes--an' my folks'll be wantin' me home."
"Well, let's not decide now. We'll talk it over to-morrow."
"You'm cold," said Bob, after a moment's silence, reaching into a locker under his seat and bringing out a moleskin adicky. "Put un on. She's fine and warm."
"Thank you. I'm thoroughly chilled," Shad admitted, gratefully accepting the adicky and drawing it on over his wet clothing.