Even now I can see that skinny little white hand straining to hold that mouth and chin, and afterward I saw how there was a cut across Skinny's fingers where the fellow's teeth had pressed.

Skinny's arm was shaking just like a rope shakes when it's pulled too tight and his eyes were staring crazy.
While I kept the boat steady, Doc leaned out and pressed Skinny's jaws so as to make his teeth let go.

And even then when we dragged him in over the stern, he had a piece of mackinaw jacket in his mouth.
I said, "Skinny, don't act crazy, he's saved," but he only sat on the back seat trembling all over as if he had a fit.

It wasn't because he was cold, it was just because he was excited and crazy like.
I didn't notice the camping fellow much after I saw that he was alive and that Doc had him breathing all right.

Westy took the oars but I couldn't help him on account of Skinny.